A Glimmer of Hope
by Hookedonapirate
Summary: Killian returns home from visiting his brother, looking forward to asking a question that will change his life. That day, his life is indeed changed. Just not in the way he expected. Captain Swan AU.
1. Chapter 1

**"There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."—Anthem by Leonard Cohen**

Killian rolls his suitcase through the airport, sighing after a long flight. He checks his phone after he turns it off airplane mode to see if he has any missed calls or texts. He only has a couple from Liam and Elsa, telling him to let them know that he arrived home safely. He texts them back, saying he just got off the plane and that he would call them later. Right now, he wants to go home and take a nap before tonight. He is giddy with excitement to see his girlfriend. He's missed her terribly since he's been away to visit his brother in England. She wasn't able to come with him because she had to work and couldn't get away for a week. He couldn't stand being away from her for more than a few days, and he caught an earlier flight without informing her so he could surprise her.

On his way home, Killian stops at a flower shop to get a bouquet of red roses and he stops at the store to get some wine and a box of chocolates. He may be tired, but that isn't about to stop him from having a nice evening with his beloved. He even thinks tonight is the night he's been waiting for. Maybe it's the time he's been away from her that makes him realize he never wants to spend another day without her or maybe he just can't find a reason to wait any longer.

When he arrives at his and his girlfriend's apartment building, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the little black box, cracking it open. He draws in a long, depleted breath, staring at the silver diamond ring as it glitters in the sunlight. He'd bought the ring a month ago when he decided to ask her to be his wife. He'd wanted to wait for the perfect moment, but what better moment than their reunion tonight after five bloody days without seeing her beautiful face? After his nap, he'll have some time to go to the grocery store and make a nice dinner for tonight. Yes, dinner and wine and a proposal (and hopefully, a yes) and lovemaking (hopefully as a newly engaged couple). That's what he has to look forward to tonight. In fact, screw the nap. He might be too excited to sleep. He might just drop off his things and go to the store. He snaps the box closed, slides it back into his pocket and grabs the items he'd purchased for her before he worries about bringing in his luggage.

Killian has a permanent smile plastered on his face as he hurries across the parking lot to the building and unlocks the entrance. He sashays upstairs, taking two steps at a time, his heart racing already, and not from the physical exertion of climbing up the stairs. Even though she won't be home until later tonight, and even though he'll have some time to prepare for this evening, his heart is already blooming with emotion. He lives on the fifth floor and there's an elevator, but he's too excited to take an elevator. He needs to work off the excited tension he feels in the pit of his stomach.

When he reaches the top of the stairs of the fifth floor, he strolls over to the door of his apartment, whistling. The sound immediately dies in his throat when he sees a woman sitting on the floor, her knees tucked into her chest as she hugs her legs and rests her forehead on her knees, her blonde hair cascading around her. He raises a brow and stops in front of her, seeing as she is sitting in front of his apartment, blocking the door.

"Excuse me, lass, can I help you?"

Slowly, she lifts her head, sad green eyes looking up at him. His heart tightens when he sees her face. Tears taint her cheeks and her eyes are red and swollen. She's been crying on his doormat.

He scratches behind his ear, not entirely sure what to do in this situation. He's never seen this woman before in his life.

"You live here?" she finally speaks, her words quiet and strangled.

"Aye. Do you need assistance?" he asks in concern.

"That depends. Can you fix a broken heart?" Though she seems to be in emotional despair, her words hold a hint of sarcasm and bitterness.

His heart cracks at her question, despite her tone, and he offers a small smile. "Sorry, I don't possess that kind of magic."

She nods and looks away from him, staring off idly into space. "That's a shame…"

He doesn't think much about her comment, and he really wishes there is something he can do to make her feel better. "Do you need help to your apartment, lass?"

A tear slides down her cheek as she looks up at him again. "I don't live here."

How did she get inside the building then? "Oh… well uh… do you need a ride home?"

She shakes her head. "No. My yellow bug is parked outside. Some guy let me in when I lied and told him I lost my key to the building."

If she doesn't live here, then why is she here? And why did she have to choose his flat to cry in front of? He's even more lost as to what to do than when he first saw this woman on his doormat. "I'm not sure if you're looking for someone, but I'm afraid you have the wrong apartment."

She shakes her head. "I wish that were true. Not for my sake, but for yours."

His brows crease in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes flicker to the items in his hands. The roses, the box of chocolates, the wine. "Those for her?"

Okay, this woman is starting to get on his nerves. How does she know he lives with a woman? Or with anyone, for that matter? "To whom are you referring, lass?" he asks, a bit irritated at this point.

She tilts her head toward the door. "The woman inside."

He looks at the door and swallows. Milah's home already? But how does this woman know this? Has she been stalking his girlfriend? "You know Milah?"

She shakes her head, averting her glossy eyes away from him.

"Then how do you know she's inside?"

"Because my fiance's not only inside there with her, but he's inside _her_."


	2. Chapter 2

This woman's statement just flipped Killian's entire world upside down, and he still does not understand who in the bloody hell she is. His fists clench around the items in his hands. "What are you talking about?" He doesn't hide his irritation this time. She must be mistaken or out of her bloody mind because there's no way in hell his Milah would ever cheat on him.

The blonde woman sniffles and wipes her tears, standing up and facing him. "Your girlfriend and my fiance are cheating on us inside this apartment."

He swallows thickly, her words piercing through him like a bullet. Hard and fast and powerful, leaving an excruciating wound inside him. "How—how do you know this?"

She looks at the door. "I followed them here. They went to lunch together and came back here. You can't hear them anymore because they probably moved to the bedroom, or they stopped, but I could…" Her voice cracks. "I could hear them."

Killian glances at the door, the roses falling to the floor, along with the millions of shattered pieces of his heart. How could Milah do this to him? He's bent over backward for her and this is how she repays him. Two bloody years with this woman and somehow in one second, everything that he loves about her is gone. Like the light suddenly dimmed on her, or the image he has of her, and all he can see is darkness. His jaw is clenched as he sets down the other items in his hands, practically throwing them down, and he would if not for the wine bottle. He doesn't want Milah to hear him outside the door before he comes in and rips out her lover's bloody throat.

He takes a step forward, reaching for the doorknob when a hand covers his to stop him.

"Don't." Her voice is soft and gentle, a vast comparison to the war raging inside him.

He turns his head, glaring at her. "And why shouldn't I go in there? This my apartment." His words hold a bite, and he has to refrain from yelling. He has to do everything he can to maintain his composure before he opens that damn door. But it doesn't work very well. The thought of Milah with another man makes his blood boil under his skin. His fists clench and his jaw tightens and he's about to storm in there to burst Milah and her lover's bubble, when soft, gentle hands are touching his face, and luminous green eyes are staring at him, pleading with him.

"Don't go in there," she murmurs softly. "You might do something you'll regret." Her words are soothing and calm and it somehow relaxes his soul. "Believe me, you do not want to go in there." She says it as though she's been in this position before. As though she's made the mistake of going in. "What's your name?"

He closes his eyes because he can't think straight with this woman's beautiful eyes piercing straight through his. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and her hands never leave his cheeks when he covers them with his own, caressing her fingers with his thumbs to find some sort of semblance. He opens his eyes again, to find her somehow offering him a small smile. But how can she smile when her fiance is on the other side of the door, fucking another woman? Fucking his—fucking Milah?

It's not until now when he looks at her, really_looks _at her. She is beautiful. She's broken inside, like him, but she's beautiful. Her mascara is smeared across her cheeks, her eyes are still puffy from crying, but she has soft, lovely features—a cute nose, a sad but beautiful smile, dimples in her cheeks and vibrant, emerald eyes. Admiring her helps distract him from the torrent of emotions building inside him. "Killian," he whispers.

"Killian, I'm Emma. Sit with me?"

It takes everything within him to nod. To not scream. To not go inside his bloody apartment. Emma removes her hands, and he sits with her in front of the door.

That's when he can hear_ them. _Milah and her lover. He can hear the bed start to squeak. The same bed he's made love to Milah hundreds of times in. _Their_ bed.

"Oh, Walsh! Yes!"

His blood sizzles inside him again, his jaw clenching. He wants to burst through that door and confront her, but before he can move, there's a hand on his again. Emma's touch has a calming effect, and he blows out another breath as she threads her fingers through his, squeezing his hand tightly. The sounds—the moaning, the squeaking of the bed—grow louder and become more consistent, and he squeezes his eyes shut to tune it all out.

"What do you do for a living?"

Her question takes him off guard. Is she really trying to have a pleasant conversation while their significant others are going at it on the other side of the door?

He opens his eyes, and he can see she's doing her best to tune out the noises as well. To be calm. Now he realizes why she's engaging him in casual conversation. So they can distract themselves.

"I'm a financial consultant," he answers quietly. "I help investors get richer. You?"

"Bail Bonds person. I'm good at finding people," she says bitterly. "I'm also good at reading people. That's how I knew this bastard was lying when he told me he had to work late or when his phone rang and he said it was his mother." She laughs. "The signs were all so obvious."

He nods and presses the back of his head against the door. "I had no idea Milah was cheating."

Emma strokes his knuckles with her thumb. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," he mutters. At the same time, he's thinking about how he's glad he found out now before he exchanged vows with a cheating whore.

Emma glances over to the other side of him, and he moves his eyes to see what she's looking at. The chocolate and wine. "I'm guessing you're not giving those to her now?"

He shakes his head and grabs the box of chocolate, opening up the package. "Nope." He removes the cover and offers her some. She looks them over and selects one, bringing the chocolate truffle to her lips and biting into it. He takes one himself and sets the box down before grabbing the wine and twisting off the cap. He'd grabbed Milah's favorite wine, which doesn't require a corkscrew to open.

He'd gotten Milah's favorite chocolates and her favorite wine and here he is sharing them with a complete stranger instead. This day has definitely made a turn from how he was hoping this day would go.

"How long were you together?" she asks him as he takes a drink from the bottle, chugging it down like it's rum. The alcohol is not nearly strong enough for what he requires, but it's enough.

"Two years," he answers, handing the bottle to her. "You?"

"One." She takes the proffered wine and chugs down the wine in the same fashion he had before passing the bottle back to him. "He asked me after eight months, and I said yes even though I wasn't ready. He pressured me into it. I should've known then that things weren't going to work out." She lifts her left hand, staring at her ring and twisting it around her finger with her other hand. "My sister-in-law will be so upset when she finds out I have canceled the wedding. She was so excited about helping me plan it. I didn't even want a big wedding, but she pretty much took over and invited tons of people I don't even know. So maybe this is a blessing in disguise."

Killian nods. "Better to find out now rather than after the vows are exchanged," he adds bitterly.

Emma agrees with a nod and studies him carefully like she knows he's not merely referring to her.

He sighs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the black box and cracking it open, handing it to her. "I was going to propose to Milah tonight."

Emma takes the box, admiring the ring inside. "It's much more beautiful than this gaudy looking thing," she remarks, comparing the two rings. "It's proof that Walsh does not know my style at all. It's proof that we were trying to rush into marriage. Or that _he _was anyway." She tries to hand him back Milah's ring, but he refuses to take it.

"Keep it. I can't even look at it anymore."

She gapes at him in shock. "I can't take this. Why don't you just get a refund for it?"

He shakes his head. "I don't care about getting my money back. I don't want to hold on to it a second longer," he says through clenched teeth.

"So, let me get this straight—you're a financial consultant who helps investors build wealth, and yet you're willing to throw your money away because you can't stand to look at the ring any longer? Kind of ironic, isn't it?"

"This whole day has been quite ironic. I'm supposed to be going to the supermarket and making dinner and preparing to pop the question tonight and instead I'm sitting on my own doormat while my girlfriend is screwing another man on the other side of the door. And the other man's fiance is sitting right beside me."

Emma considers his words and closes the box. "Fine, I'll hold on to it until you want it back." She chucks it into her purse.

"I won't."

"You say that now…"

"I won't ever want it back. Trust me." He takes another gulp of wine from the bottle.

"So that's what all this was for? The wine, the chocolates, the roses?"

"Aye." He looks at her as he passes the wine and she takes a drink. "How did he propose?"

"Dinner at a fancy restaurant, ring in the dessert."

"So, I take he's successful?"

She shrugs. "He owns a furniture shop called the Wizard of Oak. It does pretty well for him, I suppose."

He nods, grabbing the wine, tightening his fingers around it. "So, that's how they know each other. Milah is a salesperson there."

"Bastard," she mutters to herself, staring vacantly into space, or rather_ glaring _into space.

"Bitch," he spats in the same irritation and anger Emma's words had held.

"At what point do you think they decided to cheat? Do you think it was a growing attraction between them they finally gave into because they had to see each other every day, or was it, _hi nice to meet you, let's fuck? Oh, you have a boyfriend? I have a fiance, so it's fine. _"

Killian actually finds himself laughing as she mocks their voices. He can't believe he went from being a lovesick sap one moment to wanting to beat Walsh to a bloody pulp the next and now he's laughing, drinking wine and eating chocolate with a gorgeous woman who is going through the exact same thing he is. He doesn't know how it's possible for someone to want to cheat on a woman like Emma. At the same time, he wonders if Walsh is more handsome than he is and that's why Milah had justified her actions. Because the bastard can't possibly be better in bed than Killian. He always made sure Milah was satisfied, that's for damn sure.

"Milah definitely downgraded. You're more handsome than he is, for sure."

Killian eyes her in surprise. She really is good at reading people. He doesn't know if she's had enough wine to make her brutally honest or if she just doesn't give a flying fuck at this point. "Is that so?"

Emma looks at him and nods. "Oh yeah." She lifts the wine bottle to her lips and takes a drink before wiping her mouth. "You're nicer, too."

"Thanks… I think," he chuckles as she hands him the wine, and he accidentally grabs her hand instead before lowering it to the bottle. His heartbeat spikes, her touch sending a pleasant buzz over his skin. "For the record, Walsh downgraded, too. You're definitely prettier than Milah."

She lifts a brow and narrows her eyes, trying to decipher whether he's lying or not. But he's being completely honest. Milah isn't ugly by any standards, but Emma… Emma is very beautiful. And he knows it's not the wine speaking because he'd noticed how beautiful she was before the wine. "Well, it's good to know it's not our looks or lack thereof, that drove them into each other's arms. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one," she laughs.

He shrugs. "It's probably best not to think about it."

She nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

They continue to pass the wine and eat the chocolates and chat while trying to distract themselves from the matter at hand. Killian's not even sure how much time has passed when he can hear Milah and Walsh directly on the other side of the door.

"God, I love you," he hears Walsh say to her.

_Don't say it back, Milah, _he pleads silently.

"I love you, too." Milah's words are muffled, most likely by Walsh's mouth.

Killian's heart breaks once more. He tries not to let the emotions consume him, though. He looks at Emma, witnessing the devastation in her features. He encases her hand in his, threading their fingers together. She closes her eyes, and he can tell she's trying to hold back the tears. "Don't let him see your pain, love," he whispers softly in her ear.

She opens her eyes and offers a frail smile. He smiles back at her and reaches over with the hand that's not holding hers and wipes off the mascara from each side of her face when the voices on the other side of the door become closer. He quickly finishes removing any trace of the fact that she's been crying and drops his hand to his side as they both wait, holding their breaths.

"Bye, babe," Milah says as the door opens.

Then there's silence.

Killian and Emma sit there in front of the door in silence, not moving a muscle. He wishes he could see their faces right now.

"Killian?"

"Emma?"

Killian leans into Emma, whisper in her ear. "Let's get out of here."

She nods, gripping his hand even tighter and her purse with the other hand, pulling it over her shoulder. He can tell she wants to cry, but she doesn't. Together, they push themselves off the floor and head toward the elevator, not turning back.

"Emma, what the fuck are you doing here?" Walsh shouts from behind her.

"Killian, stop, please! It's not what you think!"

Killian's jaw tightens, but he and Emma keep moving.

"Emma Swan, stop!" Walsh continues to run after her, and Killian notices the loss when Emma's hand is being torn from his.

He turns around to see Walsh grabbing her arm. Emma says nothing, nor does she show any emotion as she spins around and smacks him in the face. Then she rips off the ring from her finger and tosses it at him. It bounces off his chest and lands on the carpet.

Killian smirks in pride, ignoring the fact that Milah is still calling out for him.

"Killian, please!"

He ignores Milah and takes Emma's hand again as Walsh rubs his cheek, anger taking over his features.

Killian and Emma casually walk to the elevator as Walsh tries to grab Emma once again. This time Killian doesn't stand back and watch it happen. This time he helps Emma onto the elevator and as Walsh tries to enter, Killian steps off and punches Walsh in the nose, sending him to the floor. "That's for treating Emma like shit."

"Walsh!" Milah's eyes widen as she watches her lover squirming on the floor, holding his nose.

Killian's anger washes over him like a tidal wave.

He steps up to Walsh and kicks him hard in the side, watching him groan and convulse in pain. "That's for fucking my girlfriend."

He kneels down and grabs Walsh's shirt lifting his face and punching him once again in the nose. "And that's for cheating on Emma."

Killian releases him and walks away as Walsh is balled up, holding his nose with one hand and his side with the other. When he reaches the elevator, Emma is standing in the entrance, keeping the doors from closing. She reaches out her hand to Killian and steps back when he takes it. He fights back a groan from the pain surging through his hand from punching Walsh, because he doesn't want Emma to let him go. Once inside the elevator, he turns around, seeing Milah bent over Walsh, holding him and sobbing. She looks up and catches a glimpse of Killian before the doors close. All he sees when he looks at her is darkness.

All he shows her when she stares at him is no emotion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes: Okay, I'm having too much for writing this story, so this is definitely not the last chapter. Still not sure many there will be though. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

"So, what now?" Emma asks him once they're inside his car.

"Now, I just want to get the bloody hell out of here," he grumbles, inserting the key into the ignition.

He's more sober than Emma is. She'd imbibed more wine than he had, he quickly gathered that she's a lightweight and neither of them wanted to take a chance on her ability to drive at the moment, or lack thereof.

He starts the engine and cries out in pain when he uses the same hand to turn the key that he'd punched Walsh with. He groans again when he shifts the gear into reverse, but he wastes no time peeling out of the parking spot, in case Walsh or Milah decide to follow them outside the building. He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the pain as he hurries out of the lot and just starts driving.

Emma looks at his hand in concern and takes it in hers, examining the damage. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright," he breathes hoarsely.

Her touch makes the pain pretty much disappear, or at least it seems that way when he's not using his right hand, but she insists he stop at a gas station. So he does. She hurries inside and returns with some ice from the soda machine, wrapped up in a paper towel. She holds the ice to his injured hand while he steers with his other one.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asks, not sure if she lives alone or if she lives with Walsh. Judging by the disgusted look on her face, it's the latter.

"I live with Walsh so I obviously have no plans to go back there."

Killian grips tightly at the wheel with his good hand. The thought of that wanker putting his hands on Emma the way he did in the hall, the thought of him being with Milah the way he was in the same bed Killian and Milah shared, makes him physically ill. "I was planning to go to a hotel." He glances at Emma before returning his eyes to the road. "You're more than welcome to join me." As the words tumble from his lips, he realizes what a terrible idea that is. Both of them are in too much emotional despair, both vulnerable, both wanting revenge. Being alone together in a hotel room is _definitely _a terrible idea, as good as it sounds. He's so resentful he could very well rip Emma's clothes off and fuck her good and hard until he releases all the pent up anger and hatred he feels toward Milah. But Emma deserves so much better than that. He doesn't want Emma to be his rebound girl. And he doesn't want to be her rebound guy.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asks him. "I'm not really in a position to make good decisions. I probably shouldn't even be telling you that," she laughs, but it's a sad laugh and her voice is weak. "That alone is a good indication that I'm incapable of making good decisions right now."

"You're right, love. And I don't wish to put you in a position where you might make a decision you'll regret in the morning. I promise you're safe with me. But I'm in the same boat as you. I'm not capable of making good decisions either, so maybe it's best we not tempt fate."

"Exactly. Besides, I don't have a change of clothes and I know Walsh is most likely on his way to our apartment right now, if he's not at the hospital to get his nose examined."

"I'll go," Killian says without even thinking about it.

Emma shakes her head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask, I offered. And I don't mind. He knows what will happen if he tries to stop me. His nose won't be the only thing he'll need to get examined."

Emma shakes her head again. "It's too risky. He'll call the cops on you for breaking and entering, even if he lets you in. He's sadistic like that."

Killian shrugs. He doesn't mind going to jail for someone he only met two hours ago if that means she can get back her things from a sadistic asshole. "Then, I'll go to jail. It's better than going back to my apartment. And at least then you'll have your things back."

"You're not going to jail just to get my things," she says firmly. "I can do without them."

He looks at her to see if she's being honest, and he wishes he could read people like she can, but all he sees is the quiet storm in her jaded eyes. She looks sad and broken, and he wants to hold her in his arms and make her feel better. But he knows he can't make her feel better. Not right now. Killian sighs heavily and pulls into a bar.

Emma looks at him with a raised brow. "You really think more alcohol will solve our problems?"

"Of course not, but we can bloody well try," he replies, forcing a small grin. "Besides, we can come up with a plan while we drink our sorrows away."

"We?"

He hasn't failed to notice that he's referred to himself and Emma as part of a team rather than separate entities as they try to figure out where to go from here. Maybe it's the thought of being alone or the thought of being apart from Emma that terrifies him. He's not sure which one. "Why not? Neither of us has a place to go right now, so it's either this or a hotel. Take your pick."

"Good point."

Emma discards the melted ice on the ground and throws away the paper towel in the trash can outside the bar entrance as he rubs his hand. It doesn't hurt that much anymore, and even if it did, he can't take pain killers since he's about to drink some more. And he'd rather drink than take pills to dull his pain.

When they head inside, Emma asks the bartender for some ice and a rag so Killian can keep the swelling down in his hand. Thankfully, the bartender doesn't flash them an odd look or suspect anything fishy since Emma doesn't appear to have been beaten up. Killian says, "You should see the other guy," and the bartender chuckles. He thinks Killian's joking.

He gives him an ice pack and takes their orders as they sit at the bar. They order some drinks and fried food, but neither of them take into consideration that they're hardly able to stomach any kind of food right now, so they mostly stare at the plates in front of them. He plays with a piece of fried fish with his fork while she plays with an onion ring with her fingers.

"Never thought I'd see a day when I couldn't eat an onion ring," Emma says sadly.

"I'd never thought I'd see a day when I couldn't eat fish," he mutters resentfully.

Their phones are both on the bar counter constantly buzzing against the surface, but they silence their devices. They both know who's trying to call or text them.

Emma drinks her rum and coke while he drinks a glass of whiskey as they try to decide where to go from here. As much as Emma reminds him of the situation at hand since he's experienced it with her, he knows they'll be stuck with each other for a while until they can figure out how to go their separate ways. He doesn't want to leave Emma alone like this, and he doesn't want to be alone.

"I have an idea," Emma says, looking over at him.

He turns his head, holding the tumbler in his good hand. "Let's hear it."

"I can call my brother and see if we can stay with him."

Killian shakes his head. "Love, I don't wish to intrude on someone I don't even know. I'll just take you there and get a hotel."

"He lives in Storybrooke, Maine. Four hours away."

Oh. "Well, how about this—I get a hotel, you stay there to sober up and then you can leave for your brother's place in the morning?"

"But didn't we already decide being shacked up in a hotel together was a bad idea?"

"True, but we can get separate rooms."

She nods slowly, pursing her lips in contemplation. "Or, you can come with me? We can take a train, leave everything behind, at least for a few days while you think about where to go from here. And my brother can take us back here to Boston so we can get our cars… or at least _you _can if I decide my car is not worth coming back for. I don't know about you, but I don't even want to be in the same city as Wash or Milah. In case I end up running into them."

"You have a point, love." She really does, and her offer is rather tempting. Fleeing town. Not having a chance to see the woman who, in one fell swoop, betrayed him and ruined his life, or the man half responsible. It's the perfect solution to an imperfect situation.

"And if you're not comfortable staying at my brother's, which you will feel very welcomed at, you can still stay at a hotel in Storybrooke if you want."

Again, she makes a valid point. He'll be away from this city with no risk of running into Milah or her asshole of a lover, and he'll be close to Emma. The latter wasn't one of her points, but he likes the idea of that. He doesn't have to think much more about it before deciding. Maybe it's the effect of the alcohol or his inability to conceive a way that things could possibly get any worse than they already are. So why the fuck not? He gazes at Emma, and for the first time since he found out his girlfriend was cheating on him, his eyes are dancing with a shred of hope instead of a whole lot of sorrow. He sets his drink down and slaps the palm of his good hand on the counter, swiveling the stool around so his body is facing her. "You know what, love, let's do it."

She gapes at him in bewilderment. "You want to?"

"Aye, why not? We have nothing to lose, right?"

Emma's eyes light up at his answer, and her reaction actually makes his heart sing a little. "Exactly. I'll call my brother and make sure it's okay for me to stay there. Be right back."

"Okay." He offers her a small smile and she leaves her bar stool, heading outside. He gazes at her purse, wondering if he should take the ring back. It's a deposit plus four to six months of rent, depending on the type of apartment he's able to find in Storybrooke._Where Emma will be._

She comes back ten minutes later and reclaims her seat next to him. Her expression is full of distress. Understandably so.

"My brother says we can stay there," she says, looking over at him.

He raises a brow. "We?"

She appears guilty as she bites her bottom lip and averts her gaze from him. "Yeah, I kind of asked if you could stay, too. I told him what happened, and he was more than happy to accommodate both of us."

He stares at her in awe. How can she trust him so much when she doesn't even know him? She said she's good at reading people, though. But still, she's just been burned by a man she knew for a year and now she's willing to put her faith in a man she's only known for one day? "Love—"

"I know you don't want to intrude, but you won't be. My brother and his wife are the nicest people you'll ever meet. They really don't mind."

"He has a wife?" Killian sighs. "That's even more of a reason to not impose. Neither of them has any idea who I am, and I don't wish to make him or his wife uncomfortable."

She turns toward him, taking his good hand, her eyes pleading with him. "Killian, you won't be imposing. Believe me, you'll understand when you meet them. And besides, he only agreed to a few days, so you can take that time to come up with a plan."

Killian downs another glass of whiskey. That actually doesn't sound like a bad idea. Or maybe the alcohol in his system doesn't allow him to think of any other downfall to that idea. "You sure you don't mind?"

"No, I don't. I can't just leave you here in Boston like this, and why get a hotel where you'll be alone, drowning in sorrow when you can stay at my brother's place where you'll be surrounded by nice, caring people?"

He can see the concern she feels for him, but why? Once again he surmises she's been through this before. She knows what it's like to be alone after a situation like this. "Why do I get the impression this isn't the first time you've been cheated on?" He regrets his question immediately when her smile melts into a sad frown.

"It looks like I'm not the only one who can read people," she mumbles, peering into her almost empty glass. "You're right, it's not the first time. Not by Walsh. His name was Neal, and the difference was I went inside and witnessed the cheating. I was so angry, I picked up a lamp and destroyed everything I could in that apartment with it. And it was _his _ apartment, so he called the cops on me, they threw me in jail and I had to pay for everything I destroyed. Plus, every time I closed my eyes, the images of him with her…" she chokes on the words, attempting to hold back a tear. "The images were burned in my retinas for two damn years. When I met Walsh five years later, I thought he was different. He was much older, more mature, had his own business. But I was so naïve, yet again. I became suspicious when he came home one night to take a shower because that's what Neal did when I was staying at his place. He came home from work and took a shower to wash off the remnants of the other woman."

It all makes sense now why she didn't want him to go into his apartment while Milah was with Walsh.

Her hand is resting on the bar, toying with the napkin that she never used since she's barely touched her food. He removes the ice pack and covers her hand with his injured one, softly caressing her skin. She reverts her gaze to his and sucks in a deep breath, drawing energy from his touch to continue. "The other difference was that I was completely alone afterward. I was too stubborn to go to my brother's place then. I was even too stubborn to tell anyone for two months. And it sucked. I was in bed for two months crying. I don't want to go through that again. I don't want _you _to go through that. Take it from someone who's been through this before, you don't want to go through this alone."

Killian's heart aches for her. He can't comprehend why one man would cheat on her, let alone two. He slips his palm in hers, threading his fingers through hers, not caring if it hurts him. If he can take away her pain just a little, it will be worth it. He raises her fingers to his lips and presses a slow kiss to her skin. His eyes lock with hers, and he can see her lips curve into a small smile. He's grateful to have her with him. He's grateful to have this woman concerned about him, even if they've only known each other for a day. He lowers her hand and caresses her knuckles with his thumb, offering a smile and a sigh of defeat. "Three days, that's it."

Emma nods in acceptance. "Then it's settled. I'll buy the train tickets."

He shakes his head. "_I'll _purchase train tickets."

She laughs. "And I thought I was stubborn. The only problem is we don't even have a change of clothes, but maybe we can go shopping when we get there."

"Actually, I have a suitcase. When I arrived at Milah's apartment, I had just returned from visiting my brother in England." He says _Milah's apartment_ because he never wants to associate himself with her or that apartment ever again. Now, he feels guilty because he has some things, but she has nothing. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she mulls over his statement.

"I thought you both lived there?"

"We did… until two hours ago."

"Ah, right. I don't consider Walsh's place mine anymore either."

"How about this, love—since neither of us can drive right now, and we're both opposed to facing anything that has to do with our exes except each other, how about we make a compromise? You do the one thing you don't want to do and I'll do the one thing I don't want to do."

Emma eyes him in curiosity, waiting for him to expand. "I'm listening…"

So he continues. "We'll catch a cab, stop by Wash's apartment to get your things, and while you're doing that, I'll have the cab take me to the jeweler's so I can get a refund on the ring, and then I'll come back for you. The ring is worth a deposit and at least four months worth of rent in Storybrooke. I'll stay at your brother's place while I find an apartment."

"I like your plan, but what if Walsh is home? He's not going to let me leave."

"I'll wait for you outside. If he's there, just text me and I'll help you get out of there." As he says the words, he cringes. He doesn't know how he feels about leaving her alone with him. Even if Walsh is injured.

"But it won't take me long to get my stuff. I'll just grab some clothes and toiletries. That'll take five minutes, so how about we just do what we need to do together? For moral support and all."

Killian nods and grins. "I like that idea better."

So, they follow through with their plan.

Killian picks up his phone and clears his notifications, ignoring all the missed calls and texts, and purchases two train tickets. After he and Emma leave the bar, he grabs his suitcase, they take a cab to Walsh's apartment and Killian pays the driver extra money so he'll wait for them. Thankfully, Walsh isn't there, so they're in and out of his apartment in five minutes with a suitcase of her things. Next, they head to the jewelry shop where Killian had purchased the ring. He doesn't wish to divulge the horrific details to the saleswoman why he's returning the ring, so Emma has a plan that kills two birds with one stone. He never has to look at the ring and he still gets his money back without having to supply even a small piece of detail of the worst two hours of his life.

"How dare you let someone buy this ring for his future wife?! It looks cheap and hideous and I wouldn't be caught dead wearing it!" Emma slams the ring on the counter, spins around and jabs Killian in the chest with her index finger. She makes it look like it's supposed to hurt him, but it's only a light poke. "I'm not saying yes until you buy a ring worthy enough of me." With those furious words spoken, she storms out of the store.

The woman behind the counter gapes at him with her jaw hanging open, eyes full of sympathy and shock. Needless to say, she gladly gives him a full refund.

They both erupt into a fit of giggles when Killian joins Emma in the cab. "Did you see the look on her face?! She felt so sorry for you!"

"Aye, love, she was happy to give me a refund."

They're still laughing, clinging onto one another so they don't fall to the floor of the cab from laughing so hard as the driver pulls away from the curb.

When Killian manages to stop chuckling, he gazes at Emma wistfully, her cheeks swollen and her eyes full of life, a vast comparison to how she looked when he first saw her. She was sad and crying on his doorstep. She was a mess. Now she's laughing, still slightly buzzed from the alcohol and there's hope in her eyes. It's unmistakable. After everything she's been through today. After everything_ they've _been through today. She remains hopeful. After the laughter dies in their throat, she lays her head on his shoulder, yawning. They're both spent for the day. He will certainly take advantage of their time on the train and the fact that he won't have to drive. He assumes they'll both get a good nap on their way to her brother's.

Killian wraps his arms around Emma, gently curling both of his hands around her arm as he kisses the crown of her head, looking forward to leaving this city with her. Even though he met her only hours ago, he's connected with her more in that short time than he has during the two years he'd spent with Milah. Even if he and Emma end up going their separate ways after he leaves her brother's place, at least they have each other to help them get through the next few days. At least they're not alone on one of the worst days of their lives. Killian pulls Emma to his chest as he leans back in his seat, closing his eyes, feeling her warmth through his shirt as she breathes softly against him.

For a few brief moments on the way to the train station, he feels at peace knowing he's holding a small piece of hope in his hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes: I plan on writing a few more chapters at least, so stay tuned. For those who are waiting for an update of The Princess and Her Sultan, I'm hoping to finish that tomorrow. Hoping *fingers crossed*. Lots of love!**

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Killian's phone lights up in his hand as he sits on a bench inside the train station while Emma's using the restroom. He panics for a split second, but to his relief, the person requesting a video chat is not Milah. It's Liam. He's not ready to tell his brother what had happened, but he should at least accept the call and assure him everything is fine. Even though it's not, it is ten times better since Emma is with him.

"Hey, little brother. You never called, so I wanted to check up on you."

"It's _younger _brother," Killian corrects him. "I've just been busy since I got back. I'm sorry I didn't call; it completely slipped my mind."

Liam narrows his eyes at him. "Everything okay?"

Killian puts on a smile. "Aye, everything's good."

His brother isn't buying it. "Where are you at?"

_Shit._

Killian quickly tries to produce a believable answer without telling his brother the truth, but he's on video chat and he's obviously in public. Killian didn't really think this through when he'd accepted the video chat. "Oh, nowhere, just at the…" his eyes circle around, seeing what type of business his surroundings of the dimly lit lobby could pass for. "I'm uh… I'm at the bank."

Liam's confused expression doesn't change. "The bank's open that late?"

Killian glances at the clock on the wall. It's almost six o'clock. "Aye, this one's open until six. Speaking of it being late, it's even later in England. Shouldn't you be in bed now?"

"Well, yes, but I wanted to make sure everything was okay with you first."

"I told you everything's fine."

Liam still doesn't accept his reassurance. "So, you're not going to tell me if she said yes?"

_Fuck. _

He completely forgot about that. He forgot he'd told Liam and Elsa he was thinking of proposing to Milah tonight. Hell, for the last few hours he's been with Emma, he forgot he was going to _propose _to Milah. Killian scratches behind his ear, unsure of how to answer his brother. He knows Emma will return from the restroom at any second, and they have to leave soon, so he doesn't really have time to fill him in on the sudden turn of events.

"Hey, Killian," Elsa greets him warmly as she appears on the screen and sits in Liam's lap, waving at Killian. They're both in their pajamas in their bedroom.

He flashes a smile. "Hi, Elsa."

"Sorry, I was eavesdropping," she smiles shyly, appearing to be guilty, but also enthusiastic at the same time. "I'm dying to know if you popped the question and if she said yes."

Killian feels his cheeks burn, still unsure of what to say. As if on cue, Emma returns to the bench and plops down next to him before he even realizes she's back. She immediately lays her head on his shoulder, and he suppresses a smile. He likes that she feels comfortable enough with him to just come over and lay her head on his shoulder. Hell, if he's being honest with himself, he _loves _it.

He can see her in the small box on the top right corner of the screen, and her eyes are closed. She's unaware he's video chatting on the phone. He tries to move the device, so she's out of the phone's view, but it's too late. Liam and Elsa are already thoroughly confused, their smiles dimming. To make matters worse, the overhead announcement pours from the speakers, reporting the pending arrival of the train to Storybrooke.

Liam glares at him, raising his voice when he speaks. "Killian, what the devil is going on?"

His question causes Emma's eyes to pop open, and her head flies off Killian's shoulder, eyes wide and her mouth agape. The blush in Killian's cheeks deepens and spreads to his ears as he turns his head to look at her. "It's my brother and his wife," he informs her quietly.

Emma nods and sits back, a look of apology on her face. "Sorry." It's funny how, even though she just arrived and didn't hear Killian's conversation with Liam and Elsa, she already knows why they look so puzzled upon seeing her.

"No need to apologize, love." He flashes her a reassuring smile and takes her hand with his free one, his eyes returning to the phone as much as he wishes to avoid telling Liam the truth at this moment. Especially since Liam is scolding him hard. His brother's stare is piercing right through him, making his palms sweat. But with Emma's hand in his, her thumb circling over his knuckles, he finds the strength.

"Are you cheating on Milah? Or are you just leaving her for the woman next to you."

Liam doesn't know his question just opened a big can of worms.

Killian grits his teeth. "Of course I'm not cheating on her," he answers gruffly. "Why would I cheat on someone I was planning on proposing to?"

Emma squeezes his hand to soothe him, and Killian takes a deep breath, able to relax from her touch.

Liam and Elsa look even more perplexed.

_"Was?" _Elsa asks.

"Yes. I didn't get a chance to propose because I returned home to find my girlfriend in our apartment… with another man." Anger surges through him at the memories, but Emma is running her hand up and down his arm, trying to keep him calm. And it's working.

The faces on the screen cloud with apology.

"Oh, Killian, I'm so sorry," Elsa says softly.

"She was what?!" Liam asks angrily, his response vastly different from Elsa's. "Bloody hell, Killian…" he sighs, running his hand over his face. "So, what are you going to do now? Did you kick her out?" He lowers his hand, now staring at him hard, as though Liam will be disappointed if Killian's answer is no.

Killian shakes his head, as much as he knows the truth will upset his brother. "No, I left." He glances at Emma, trying to decide whether or not he should explain how he'd met her. Emma is apparently reading his thoughts because she's nodding her head, lips curving into an encouraging smile. What the bloody hell would he do without this woman right now?

His gaze reverts to the screen, drawing in another long breath. "Liam, this is Emma." He points the phone at her, and she offers a small wave and a smile.

"Hi."

"It's nice to meet you, Emma. I'm Elsa, and this is Liam."

Liam still doesn't look happy. "I guess it didn't take long for you to move on from Milah, did it?"

Killian returns the screen to himself. "It's not what you think. Emma is—_was _the girlfriend of the man who Milah cheated on me with. When I showed up to the apartment, Emma was there. Neither of us had anywhere to go, so we stuck together and left for her brother's place… in Storybrooke, Maine."

This apparently doesn't make matters any better. In fact, it seems to make his brother even angrier.

"What?! You're just throwing everything away because of some tramp who cheated on you and for a stranger you don't even know?!"

"Liam, be nice," Elsa scolds her husband, swatting his shoulder. "He just got his heart broken."

"I don't care. This isn't you, Killian. You're smarter than this."

"We're not strangers," Emma interjects, taking the phone from Killian. "We were friends before today. That's how Milah and Walsh knew each other—through us. Besides, we're only going to Storybrooke for a few days to figure things out."

Killian has to take a moment to process what's happening. Emma's making up a story to appease his brother—a guy she doesn't even know. It seems to work though, because Liam's features soften, his eyes swarming with apology. Killian is grateful for what Emma said. He doesn't feel like being lectured by his brother right now. Certainly not through video chat.

"So when I suspected Walsh was cheating and started spying on him, you can imagine my surprise when I found out he was cheating on me with my friend's girlfriend."

Killian has to admit, Emma is a very good liar. The proof is in Liam's reaction. He seems to devour every word.

"My apologies, Emma. Killian just failed to mention you is all."

She throws Killian a fake a look of surprise. "Really?" She frowns in disappointment. "And here I thought our friendship was something to brag about."

Killian flashes a small smile, blush filling his cheeks. He goes along with her story and says, "It is, love. Some things are just too good to tell anyone." He leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Which he immediately realizes is a mistake. Because her skin is soft and warm, she smells delicious and he's pretty sure he can hear her breath hitch. But he quickly pulls away before Liam suspects something more than friendship, and touches the side of his forehead to hers. She's surprised at first and her knee-jerk reaction is to pull away, but once she realizes it's another harmless act of affection he's offering, she leans into him, pressing her temple against his as they smile into the phone.

Elsa gushes at the sight. "Aww, that's so sweet."

"Don't mind my brother, lass," Liam says to Emma. "He's never been one for bragging."

"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said about me," Killian teases.

"I'm happy you have each other right now," Elsa says with a smile. "So, how did you meet?"

Before Killian or Emma can respond, the announcement of the train's arrival sounds through the station. "Sorry, we have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow," Killian tells them. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, you two," Liam says.

"It was nice meeting you, Emma. Have a safe trip," Elsa wishes them.

Emma leans in and waves at them. "It was nice meeting you both."

Killian ends the call and slips the phone into his jacket, taking Emma's hand when they stand up. They grab their suitcases and head toward the crowd of people lining up and heading for the platform outside.

Once they're settled in their seats inside the train, Emma resumes her earlier position and lays her head on his shoulder.

Killian smiles and wraps an arm around her. "I'm sorry about my brother, love. He can be a pain in the arse sometimes."

Emma lifts her head, looking over at him. "He's fine. He sounds just as protective as my older brother."

Killian cocks a brow. He's not surprised by this, but he is surprised someone so protective would be okay with Emma taking a train with someone she just met. "Is that so?"

"Yeah." She sighs wearily and pulls away from him slightly, her features clouding with guilt. "I have a confession to make."

She says this as the train pulls away from the station, and his stomach twists.

"What's that, love?" He gulps thickly.

"I told my brother you were a good friend of mine."

_ Oh._

"He knows you were cheated on, but I told him the four of us know each other, just like I told Liam and Elsa." She bites her bottom lip, her eyes full of apology. "I'm sorry I lied to him, I just… if he knew you were a stranger, he probably wouldn't have been so open to the idea of you staying in his home."

Now it makes sense. Even if her brother is a nice person like Emma says he is, to agree on letting a complete stranger into his home before ever meeting them would be quite a stretch. What surprises Killian, though, is the lengths Emma went to before she would let Killian fend for himself. Before she would leave him alone to wallow in pain and misery. She lied to her brother for him.

"Are you mad?" she asks nervously.

He shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead. "No, I'm not mad."

She sighs in relief.

"Thank you," he murmurs softly.

She lifts a brow in confusion. "You're thanking me for lying to my brother?"

"No, I'm thanking you for putting faith in me."

She smiles at him.

Killian recalls the earlier events of that day, and even in the beginning, Emma looked out for him. Before she knew his name, before she even spoke more than a few words to him. Killian gazes at her in awe. Few people would go to the lengths Emma has for a stranger. "And thank you for not letting me go into that apartment. I haven't told yet how grateful I am for that."

"You're welcome. Thank you for defending my honor with Walsh." She reaches over and takes his hand in hers, threading their fingers together.

He smiles, the warmth from her touch flooding through him. He's beginning to really enjoy their hand-holding sessions. "It was nothing, love."

She shakes her head. "No, it was a hell of a lot more than nothing. You only kicked him once for what he did to you—for your own pain—but you hit him twice for _my pain. _That means a lot." Her lips pull into a warm smile, eyes welling up with tears.

Killian removes his arm from her shoulder so he can swipe her hair behind her ear without having to let go of her hand. "I had to. He wouldn't back off and I could see just in that moment alone he didn't respect you. You_deserve _to be respected. You _deserve _to be cherished. And something tells me your brother has a very good reason to protect you."

"Maybe," she murmurs softly. "Since I told him we're friends, you won't have to worry about him, though."

"Aren't we friends, though?" he asks hopefully. "I mean we haven't known each other for very long, but I feel like we've already been through a lot together," he chuckles.

Emma laughs with him, nodding in agreement. "You're right. I guess that makes us friends."

Killian sits back again, wrapping an arm around her as she reclaims her spot on his shoulder. He rests his head on hers, and they sit in silence for a while, getting some shut-eye until the food cart comes around. They decide on some dinner and water since all they've had today was alcohol and chocolate. Unlike at the bar, they pretty much devour their food while they discuss the story of how they met, since they won't be able to avoid the question once they're in Storybrooke. They agree to tell David and Mary Margaret the same thing they told Elsa and Liam, because telling people Emma was friends with Milah or that Killian was friends with Walsh is definitely out of the question. The thought alone makes them both cringe.

Killian becomes curious as he remembers their conversation in the hall at the apartment building about Emma worrying whether her sister-in-law would be upset or not when she found out the wedding was canceled. "David's wife… is she the sister-in-law who planned your wedding?"

Emma nods as she chews on a mouthful of food and swallows it down with a gulp of water. "Yeah, she is."

"So how did she take it? When you told them?"

Emma shrugs. "She wasn't as devastated about the wedding being called off, only that Walsh cheated on me. David threatened to drive to Boston and kick his ass but Mary Margeret and I talked him out of it. I told him you already did and now he can't wait to meet you."

Killian smiles at her as he picks up his bottle of water. "I can't wait to meet them either."

Emma grins, her cheeks flushed with an adorable shade of pink. "Look at us just climbing to the top of the friendship ladder all in one day. Experiencing heartbreak together, sharing sad stories, defending each other, lying for each other. I've met your family, now it's time for you to meet mine." She laughs and raises her water like she's about to say a toast, which she does. "Here's to taking the next step in our friendship."

Killian grins and clinks his bottle against hers. "To the next step."

They drink to that.


	5. Chapter 5

***TRIGGER WARNING* This chapter includes nonconsensual touching and other sexual activity, and I don't want to give away too many details, but I hope my writing clarifies that the actions are NOT intentional, at least not for the person on the receiving end, nor are they conscious actions, given the set of circumstances. I don't even know if it warrants a warning, but I think it's better to be safe and include one just in case.**

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They arrive in Storybrooke around nine o'clock, just after a blanket of darkness has consumed the air, and there's a car waiting for them outside the station.

"It's my brother," Emma informs him as she waves at the man in the vehicle.

He steps out and approaches them, offering a kind smile. Killian had learned on the train ride that David and Emma are not siblings by blood, but his family adopted her when she was a teenager, which explains why they have different surnames. But they still look like brother and sister. He has blonde hair like Emma, only more of a dirty blonde than a golden blonde, he also has dimples in his cheeks like her, but his tired eyes are light blue, rather than green.

He sticks out his hand, introducing himself. "Hi, I'm David, Emma's brother."

Killian shakes his hand. "I'm Killian, Emma's friend," he says with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Killian. Thanks for looking out for my little sister." Releasing Killian's hand, David looks at Emma and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Killian's heart melts. He's only just met the man and can already tell David is a very protective and caring brother. "It's not a problem. Emma and I… we take care of each other." As contrived as the statement is, based on the handful of hours they've known each other, it's not completely a lie. They_have _taken care of each other since they've known each other. David just thinks they've known each other much longer than they have. He takes their bags as Killian winks at Emma. She smiles, mouthing _thank you _as David stows their luggage in the trunk. Killian mouths _you're welcome._

The drive to the Nolan's house is short, considering the town is small. It's a refreshing change of scenery after leaving Boston the way they did. Especially since neither Milah nor Walsh is here.

David's wife, Mary Margaret, greets them at the door, introducing herself to Killian with a bright smile and a warm hug. "It's so nice to meet you, Killian. I can't wait to hear all about how you and Emma met," she beams in excitement.

Killian flashes a smile and glances at Emma. He's just glad they discussed their story ahead of time.

"Are you hungry? There's leftover lasagna in the refrigerator," Mary Margaret says, pulling away from the hug.

"We ate on the way here," Emma replies and looks at Killian. "I'm not very hungry, but you should definitely try her lasagna if you're not too full from dinner. I promise it's the best lasagna you've ever had."

Killin chuckles and places his hand on his stomach. As enticing as the offer is, he doesn't think he can handle a heavy plate of pasta right now. "Thank you. I will definitely take you up on that offer later."

Mary Margaret makes them hot cocoa and they sit in the living room as Killian and Emma give them a story of how they met. They tell the Nolans they used to be neighbors at the apartment building Emma lived in before she moved in with Walsh._Emma came home one night completely exhausted and left her keys in the lock without realizing it. Killian saw them when he passed by that night and knocked on her door to give them to her. She was very grateful and invited him in for coffee. They've been friends ever since. _Thankfully, the Nolans seem to buy every word and are happy a nice guy like Killian saw the keys and not a burglar or a rapist or a murderer. Emma rolls her eyes at how worried they become, even if it supposedly happened in the past. Killian smiles. They seem more like her parents than her brother and sister-in-law.

"Well, we're pretty beat, we should probably go to bed," Emma says after she and Killian decided to have a small plate of lasagna, rendering them spent and full.

"Of course. I can imagine you're both exhausted after the day you've had," Mary Margaret says.

"Killian, I'll show you to your room." David stands up, along with Killian, and leads him upstairs to the guest room he'll be staying in.

David thanks him once again for looking out for his sister, but before he leaves the room, he places his hands on his hips, a stern expression on his face when he studies Killian. "You're just looking out for Emma, right?"

Killian swallows the sudden large lump in his throat. He's immediately paranoid that David didn't actually believe the story he and Emma gave him and his wife. "Aye." He nods. "I promise you, I only want the best for Emma," he adds sincerely. "We're helping each other get through this."

David studies him for a moment longer, and it's one of the most terrifying moments of Killian's life. Is David going to snap and punch him in the face or is he going to hug him? At this point, he's not sure. So when a smile graces the man's lips, and he gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder, Killian blows out a sigh of relief.

"Good, because if your intentions weren't pure, you'd end up much worse than Walsh after what you did to him." He winks at Killian, still donning a smile as he turns around and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Killian releases another long sigh of relief and changes into a pair of pajama pants from his suitcase. He's glad he'd washed his clothes at Liam's and Elsa's before he'd left England.

He knows his intentions with Emma are pure, but if David discovers the truth of the situation, he may gather the wrong impression about Killian's intentions. He tries not to think too much about it though. He goes to the bathroom down the hall to brush his teeth, running into Emma on the way back to the room he's staying in.

"Thank you so much for going along with this," she says appreciatively, standing in front of him. She graces him with a weary smile. "They absolutely love you."

Killian grins smugly, but he knows Emma's exaggerating a little, at least as far as David is concerned. "Well, I _am _very loveable."

Emma doesn't bother to argue. In fact, she leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, taking him off guard. His breath catches in his throat.

"Thank you again, Killian," she whispers and walks away, disappearing inside the room across from the one he's staying in.

Killian looks back at her door, his fingers brushing over his cheek. The same cheek she'd kissed.

_Bloody hell. _

He never imagined he'd be so affected by someone after Milah had stomped on his heart earlier that day, but Emma makes him feel things he really shouldn't be feeling right now. He's so fucked.

Killian returns to his room and slips into bed, laying his head on the pillow as another deep sigh passes through his lips. He runs a hand over his face and closes his eyes. He desperately tries to sleep, but fails miserably, tossing and turning every twenty minutes. When he had been with Emma, he could breathe, be _normal _with her, but once he's alone, the reality of what Milah did to him sets in. Of hearing her say those three bloody words to Walsh. The surrounding air is thin; he feels suffocated. His whole body aches. His heart aches. How could Milah do that to him? How could she love someone else when he gave her all the love he had? Why was he not good enough? Why hadn't he seen she wasn't happy with him or satisfied enough? Why hadn't he realized he was driving her into the arms of another man? These questions haunt him, and he keeps asking them repeatedly.

Two hours pass when there's a soft knock on the door. Killian is wide awake as he glances at the door, arching a brow. It can't be David because his knock would probably be much louder, especially if he found out Killian and Emma were lying to him—if David for some reason thought Killian's intentions with Emma weren't pure, like Killian had reassured him.

Killian gets out of bed, running a hand through his tousled hair as he strides across the room. He opens the door, finding Emma standing there donning a smile.

"Hey," she murmurs quietly.

"Hi, love. Can't sleep either?" he asks with a warm smile.

She shakes her head. She appears to be normal at first, but as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can see the wreckage written all over her features. Her smile is broken, her eyes are glistening and her cheeks are stained with tears. His heart aches for her. For what Emma's going through, for what _he's _ going through. For what he already feels for her. Hell, his heart is totally fucked.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

She shrugs. "Not really. I mean, after what happened today, are you?"

"No," he answers weakly.

"I keep blaming myself, wondering what I'm doing wrong to make men want to cheat on me."

His heart cracks into a million pieces. She blames herself for this? But at the same time, he's wondering what he did to push Milah away. "Emma," he whispers, lifting a hand to her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that escapes her right eye. "You can't blame yourself. Cheating is _never _the answer. Relationships take a lot of hard work, and the ones in need of repair don't fix themselves. Screwing someone else fixes nothing, it only covers up the cracks with duct tape.

Emma snorts, her face suddenly lighting up in the darkness. "That's a perfect guy analogy."

He chuckles and blushes. "Hey, it got you to laugh, didn't it?"

She nods. "That's true." She wipes the tears from her eyes, sniffling. "Thank you. I really needed that."

"Happy to be of service, love."

They stare at each other for a moment. He can't help but get lost in those alluring emerald depths of hers.

Emma is the one to break the spell, pulling her gaze from their trance. "Well, I should go back to bed. I don't want to keep you up."

Somehow he doubts he would ever mind Emma keeping him up at night, especially if it makes her feel better. "Goodnight, love."

"Night, Killian."

She flashes a heart-stopping smile and disappears into the hall before he shuts the door behind him.

Killian exhales deeply and turns around, his back slumped into the door. Not a minute goes by when another knock sounds in his ear. His features twist in confusion as he turns around again to answer it.

It's Emma again. He swallows the large lump in his throat, not knowing what to expect from a second visit from her.

She appears hesitant at first as she peers down at her hands, toying with her fingers.

"What is it, love?" he asks softly.

When she lifts her eyes again to meet his gaze, he offers an encouraging smile that seems to give her the courage she needs. "Killian, can I sleep with you? I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

He doesn't give it a thought. "Of course, love." He can certainly empathize with her because he's been through the same thing she has, so he knows the thought of being alone is not a pleasant one. On top of that, she's willing to expose her vulnerable side to him, which he finds rather endearing. "Perhaps we should go to your bed, though, so your brother and sister-in-law don't freak out if they were to walk into your bedroom tomorrow morning and find your bed empty."

"Yeah, you're right."

He blushes and scratches behind his ear because he's nervous as all hell about sleeping in the same bed as the beautiful woman standing before him, who's only dressed in a thin tank top, which encases a fantastic set of breasts and the outlines of her nipples, and a tiny pair of shorts that show off miles of her gorgeous legs.

He lifts his eyes when she extends her hand to him, which he takes, allowing her to lead him to her room. He gets a view of her perfect butt, the cotton fabric of her shorts brushing against the curves of her butt.

_Bloody hell. _

_Stop looking, _he berates himself and lifts his eyes again. He really shouldn't have looked.

Killian holds his breath as he steps into her room. He shuts the door behind them, his heart pounding as he walks with her across the room. He crawls onto her twin size bed after her, slipping underneath the covers. Emma turns to her side, facing away from him, and grabs his hand, pulling it around her body. Killian gulps as their entwined fingers rest just below her breasts.

Perhaps this wasn't the best idea.

There is barely any room between their bodies, and Killian can feel the natural body heat radiating from Emma. His breath catches as he feels the intensity of the situation weighing down on him. Perhaps he's digging a hole too deep and setting himself up for failure by getting this close to her, but he feels like there is a lot of potential for them. He feels like this could become something.

Something _good._

He's in a comfortable position and is ready to sleep, but he can't relax enough. His entire body is tense as he tries not to let himself mold around her.

"You okay?" she asks through a yawn. "Are you comfortable enough?"

He chastises himself again. _Relax, you wanker._ _Emma needs to be comforted and consoled. You need to be comforted and consoled_, he tells himself. This… them being together like this is good for them. They can use each other for comfort and for letting themselves be vulnerable with one another.

"Uh, yeah… sorry, love," he chokes out, clearing the uncertainty from his throat. Why is he so anxious? He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, feeling the tension leave his muscles. He allows his body to contour around hers and pulls his arm tighter around her. He buries his face in a pile of her golden hair, soothed by the rhythm of her chest slowly rising and falling. _This is only for one night, _he reminds himself. Emma's soft body feels so good and warm in his arms, and the sweet scent of her hair filling his nostrils isn't so bad… he's able to fall asleep within a few minutes.

* * *

_He misses her terribly. He's excited to see her, to hold her, to be with after being apart for five days. He's also nervous about popping the question, but when he opens the door, she's opening her arms, and her smile melts away his anxiety. He holds her in his arms, he pulls out the ring and asks her to marry him. She says yes. He could not be happier. He scoops her up into his arms and carries her to their bed. _

Her body is warm in his arms and when she shifts slightly into him, trying to get closer, he groans as her butt grazes his morning erection. His free hand, the one not crushed under her head, curls around the curve of her hip. A soft whimper leaves her lips as he presses his stiff length into her lovely arse, lightly thrusting against her. It feels so good, heat surges through him, his need for her increasing. He continues rutting his hips against her butt as his hand slides under her shirt, trails up her body and cups one of her breasts.

"Fuck," he whispers, feeling her soft nipple harden underneath his touch. She feels better than he remembers. He buries his face in her hair, hips thrusting against her as he kneads a supple breast, his cock hardening even further at the anticipation of having her.

He's so hard, he's pretty sure he could explode right now. He slides his hand down her belly and grabs her hip, his length rocking roughly against her. He's content on just letting himself go like this. Just dry humping his girlfriend until he cums.

"Gods, I'm almost there." He reaches for her breast again and squeezes, knowing it won't take much for him to finish. After he does, he plans on licking up her goodness and making her cum in his mouth. He salivates in anticipation, the intensity of his arousal consuming him.

She groans, her voice laced with sleep as she grabs his hand, trying to pull him away.

"Walsh…"

Killian freezes, immediately stilling his hips, anger quickly replacing his arousal. What did she just say? The blood bubbles under his skin at the thought of that man.

The memories of Walsh flood through him. How Milah had told him she loved that wanker. How he went after Emma and grabbed her arm. Right before Killian punched him. Right before he and Emma took the next train to Storybrooke._Storybooke. _Where Milah is _not. _She's in Boston. And he never wants to see her again.

So if she's not in bed with him, then who is?

_Killian, can I sleep with you? I don't want to sleep alone._

"Walsh, stop, I'm tired."

The memories of last night and hearing that voice more clearly, that voice which is not Milah's, but _Emma's, _pull him back to reality.

_Fuck_, this _can't_ be happening.

_Please be dreaming, please be dreaming. Please tell me I'm only fantasizing about touching Emma and not actually molesting her._

He opens one eye hesitantly and, to his utter horror, sees the pile of disheveled blonde hair and realizes his hand is actually cupping one of her breasts because he notices how warm and soft it feels in his palm and… this is definitely _not _a dream.

"Fuck…"

"Emma, wakey wakey, it's time for breakfast." Mary Margaret's chipper voice fills the room when the door flings open.

Her mouth falls open as she witnesses what's happening in the room. Killian's hand is clearly underneath her shirt, touching her breasts and Emma most likely still has her eyes closed as she shoves Killian's hand away.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry!" Mary Margaret shrieks and scatters from the room.

_Fuck fuck fuck. _A million times _fuck!_


	6. Chapter 6

"Walsh, stop, I'm tired," Emma mutters sleepily. She has to admit his erection feels good against her. And maybe she's wrong but he feels bigger than normal. He's extremely hard, and the rhythm in which he moves against her butt is desperate and needy, and she's overwhelmed with heat. She's incredibly wet. But she knows where this leads. It leads to underwhelming, unsatisfying sex, and she's too damn tired for sex that only leaves her wanting, and does nothing to quench her sexual cravings. So, as she always does when he tries to fuck her while she's half asleep, she rejects him.

"Fuck…"

Walsh sounds different, but maybe it's because she's tired or maybe it's because she's been dreaming of a certain British man—his accent and the things she wants to do to him; the things she wants him to do to her—and now all she hears is Killian. It's all the more reason to stop Walsh from doing what he's about to do.

The urge to stop things from going any further increases when Mary Margaret bursts into the room. Yep, that's definitely a good reason to put a stop on things. Her sister-in-law has never learned how to knock, and ordinarily, Emma would be irritated with her right now, but she's very grateful the woman is there to put the fire out on Walsh.

Mary Margaret apologizes and dashes from the room as Emma shoves Walsh's hand away because he can't take a hint.

"Emma, fuck, I'm so sorry."

Okay, now she's seriously hearing things because that definitely sounds like Killian and that's impossible because she's lying next to Walsh.

_Wait. _Back the fuck up. How can she be with Walsh when he cheated on her with that bitch, who shall remain nameless? Emma didn't even meet Killian until after she had already made up her mind that she was done with Walsh. So how is Killian in bed with her?

She quickly rolls over on her back, staring at him in confusion. "Kilian?" He was the one who….?

_Oh._

If she would've known that, she wouldn't have stopped him. Emma blushes at the thought.

He sits up, burying his face in the palm of his hands, cursing into them as the memories of last night come rushing back to her, of how she invited him into her bed to snuggle. But that doesn't explain why he was just dry humping her.

"Emma, Gods…" He lifts his head, and the look on his face is full of regret and apology. "I am sooooo sorry. I was dreaming I was still with Milah, and I thought you were her and I… fuck. I'm so sorry." He babbles on about how sorry he is, and before she even knows what the hell is going on, he's jumping out of bed. "You don't have to say anything, I'll leave."

"Killian, wait." She's still thoroughly confused as she gets out of bed and hurries over to him, taking his hands in hers. "You don't have to leave. You were dreaming of Milah, I get it." Although she's kind of disappointed by this. Disappointed that he touched her thinking she was someone else. A stab of jealousy hits her, even though she has no right to be jealous.

His eyes are full of wreckage, and the look on his face makes her heart hurt. "But Emma, I…" he pauses and stares blankly at the bed—at the spot they were just lying in. "I almost…"

"You almost what?"

Before he can reply, the door flies open.

"Get your hands off my sister!"

Emma turns her head to see her brother storming into the room, marching over to Killian with murder in his eyes.

"David, calm down." She says, wrapping a protective arm around Killian.

"Emma, move out of my way so I can smash his face in for putting his hands on you," he barks out sharply, staring at Killian with blood-curdling anger.

"No!" Emma turns around, pleading with David. "Stop! It was just a big misunderstanding."

"He was groping you! Tell me how is that a misunderstanding?! Don't let him fool you."

"Emma, it's okay," Killian murmurs gently. "I deserve it."

"See? Killian agrees." David lunges at him, but Emma spreads out her arms to block him, refusing to move out of the way.

"David, stop!" Mary Margaret yells as she enters the room.

David glances at his wife. "No, I will not stop. He told me last night his intentions with her were pure and yet you find him in her bed with his hand up her shirt." He glares at Killian. "Now, tell me how is that a pure intention?"

"He thought I was Milah!" Emma blurts out. "And I thought he was Walsh. We're both still devastated from what happened yesterday."

David blows out a depleted sigh, planting his hands on his hips. "I don't believe this. Do you actually believe he thought you were someone else? Come on, Em, you're smarter than that."

Emma scowls at her brother. "I believe him. Just imagine if tomorrow you woke up next to another woman. After sleeping next to the same person every day for years, wouldn't you think you were sleeping next to her?"

"Another woman?" Mary Margaret looks at David with wide, accusatory eyes. "Who would you be lying next to?"

Emma shakes her head. "I'm not saying he would, I'm just saying… imagine waking up to the same person every day and then suddenly waking up to someone else."

"But that's different. Killian should've known who he was with, considering he got into bed with you," David shoots back.

"I invited him to my bed because I didn't want to sleep alone, and he _did _know, but he didn't remember that when he woke up."

Mary Margaret and David both eye her in confusion.

Emma sighs in frustration. "Look, it was an accident, okay? That's all I can say. I invited him into my bed and it was a mistake because we're both a complete mess. So, can you please just turn off your _protective brother _mode for three damn days?!" she asks him, as though there's a switch he can just flip to make him less protective.

David stares at Killian, studying him intently, but she can see his resolve weakening. "Fine, but he has to promise to keep his hands off you, otherwise I can't promise I won't retaliate."

_Unbelievable! _"What are we, twelve?" Emma huffs.

"David, I can assure you, I meant no harm to Emma and I feel terrible about what I did," Killian says delicately, stepping from behind her. "I assure you, it will not happen again."

Emma's again disappointed, but his statement seems to appease David, so she can't blame him for saying it.

"It better not," David threatens and points two fingers at his eyes, and then at Killian's. "I'm keeping my eyes on you."

Emma rolls her eyes at her brother, and finally, he and Mary Margaret leave the room.

She and Killian breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm so sorry, Emma. I should probably just go."

Emma turns around and steps into his space, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "You don't have to leave. I want you here."

"But David obviously isn't happy with me, and I don't want to cause any more problems."

"Killian…" Emma soothes her thumb over his cheek and he seems to melt in her hands, his eyes softening under her gaze. "You won't. We both know sleeping in the same bed last night was a mistake, so we just won't do that again." Emma regrets the words as she says them. Because last night was _not _a mistake. Last night, she finally felt like she was sleeping next to the right person. "I'm just disappointed you were thinking of another woman when you were touching me." She offers a tiny smirk, but her confession seems to make him even sadder, his eyes dark and hooded. She can _feel _his pain when she peers into his eyes.

"Gods, Emma, I'm such an asshole." He leans his forehead on hers, closing his eyes, whispering, "I'm so sorry."

Her heart breaks, and she wraps her arms around him, drawing him into a hug. He slides his arms around her back, holding her tightly and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Emma melts into him, her heart pounding against his chest. "You're not an asshole," she whispers, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

They stand there for a few minutes, just holding each other, just appreciating the other's warmth and affection. Then he says something she doesn't expect.

"Emma, I promise, the next time I touch you, it won't be because I'm thinking of Milah. It will be because I can't stop thinking about _you."_

A tear escapes her eye and she squeezes him tighter, not even expecting to feel relieved by his statement. But she is. As much as he's grown on her in the last twenty fours she's known him, she knows they're both too fucked up to start anything. If she's being honest with herself, she doesn't want Killian to be her rebound guy. And she doesn't want to be his rebound girl.

When they're finally able to pull away from one another, they leave the room and enter the kitchen where they have the most awkward breakfast Emma has ever endured. David stares at Killian as he eats and Mary Margaret attempts to distract everyone by asking about Emma's and Killian's plans while they're in Storybrooke. Thankfully, they manage to get through breakfast without a hitch.

The next two days go much smoother than that morning. Killian does his best to make things up to Emma and to thank Mary Margaret and David for letting him stay. He helps with the cooking and dishes, pitches in with groceries and tidies up the apartment, even though Mary Margaret constantly assures him he doesn't have to do any of that. David doesn't seem to mind though.

Emma shows Killian around Storybrooke, taking him to Granny's diner and other town attractions. She has to admit, she's missed this place terribly. She's glad she's back.

David's feelings toward Killian starts to soften by the end of day three, and the two guys are even out on the balcony drinking beers and laughing when Emma and Mary Margaret join them.

The three days reach their inevitable end and Emma's depressed as hell. And it's not because of what Walsh did to her. No, she deleted that mother fucker from her contacts, along with all fifty of his messages that were half apologetic and half blaming her for what he did. _Fucking asshole. _

Together, Killian and Emma deleted all of the messages they received from _those who shall not be named_—they both decided to refer them as such from now on—erasing them from their lives. If they're starting fresh, they have to forget the past, and neither of them said it out loud, but they're both hoping for a fresh start with _each other. _At least Emma is. She hopes Killian has the same thoughts.

They both decide to head back to Boston and get their cars, and also so Killian can tie up some loose ends. He wants to end things on good terms with the firm he worked for and is planning on telling his boss he's relocating to Storybrooke. Emma doesn't really have any loose ends in Boston. He who shall not be named was the only thing keeping her there, and she already cut herself loose from that bastard. She did, however, miss her yellow bug, so she wants to get it back. Though she might have to get it from a tow yard; she's sure either Milah or Walsh had her car towed, seeing as it was in the parking lot of the apartment building where she and Killian caught them cheating.

"Thanks again for your hospitality and for letting me stay here. Emma's lucky to have a family like you," Killian says as the four of them exchange hugs at the train station. Emma decided it was best to take the train rather than trap Killian in a car with David so he could give Killian a long, grueling, protective brother's speech.

David pats Killian on the back. "Well, I'm sorry for trying to punch you. I hope there are no hard feelings."

Killian waves off the apology. "Not at all. If I were in your shoes and had a sister, I would've reacted in a similar fashion. Sorry again for the misunderstanding."

"How about we just forget it ever happened?" David asks, offering Killian his hand.

Killian smiles and shakes on it. "Agreed."

"Bye, Killian, it was nice having you stay with us." Mary Margeret beams, pointing at him. "Don't you be shy when you return. You're always welcome in our home."

"Well, I don't know about _always," _David remarks playfully.

His wife returns with a gentle swat on David's shoulder and looks at Killian. "You're _always _welcome."

"Thank you," Killian says appreciatively.

They return to Boston at noon and take a cab to Milah's apartment complex. Emma is hoping and praying her car is still there so she doesn't have to pay to a towing company to get it back. So when she sees the sunlight bouncing off the shiny yellow bug in the parking lot, she sighs in relief.

"Hey, what do you know, it's still there," Killian remarks.

Emma looks at him, and can't help but notice how nervous he appears to be. "You okay?"

He sighs, exasperated. "Yeah, I'm just hoping we don't run into _those who shall not be named. _"

"Me too."

Fingers crossed, they step out of the cab and head toward Emma's vehicle. But, to their dismay, Milah is emerging from the building, keys in her hand and her purse slung over her shoulder.

Emma curses under her breath and continues the small trek to her car.

"Killian?"

_Shit._

Emma retrieves her keys from her purse as Killian reaches the passenger's side, waiting to get in as Milah makes her way toward him.

"Killian, please, don't go. Can we just talk?"

Emma looks over the roof of the car, seeing his jaw clenched as he avoids looking at Milah. Emma unlocks the doors so he has an escape.

"I don't have anything to say to you," he mutters through gritted teeth, pulling open the car door.

"Please, Killian. Let me explain," she pleads, approaching Killian. "I was tired of waiting."

He spins around, his jaw twitching as he stares at her disdainfully. "Waiting for what?"

Emma doesn't know if she should just stand there awkwardly and watch, or if she should get in the car. But she's hoping Killian will stay strong, and maybe her presence will remind him to do so. Yes, she'll remain where she is for moral support, not because she is nosy and has to know how this plays out. Hey, this woman stole her fiance so she has a right to put her nose in the woman's business.

Milah points her eyes sharply at Emma. "Do you mind giving us some privacy?" she asks snarkily.

Emma clenches a fist at her side.

_Bitch, I will cut you, _she thinks to herself.

"She stays where she's at," Killian replies firmly. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of both of us."

Emma suppresses the wide grin threatening to pull at her lips. He said _both of us._

Milah sighs, looking down at the pavement between herself and Killian. "I was waiting for you to pop the question. We were together for two years, and never once did you ever mention marriage."

_Ah, shit. This should be interesting._

Emma can feel Killian's anger radiating off of him from where she stands on the other side of the car. His posture changes as he scoffs and plants his hands on his hips, jaw clenched as he glares at Milah. "Well that's just bloody fantastic because the night I caught you fucking another man, I had an engagement ring for you in my pocket," he mutters bitterly.

Milah lifts her head, her eyes lighting up and a smile blooming over her lips. "You were going to propose?"

"Aye," he murmurs with a slight nod, his jaw still clenched.

Emma is expecting this woman to be full of regret, to get on her hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, but instead, she's clapping her hands in excitement. "Yes, Killian, I will marry you!"

_You've got to be kidding me. _Emma refrains from rolling her eyes.

Killian's features twist in confusion. "Did you miss the part about me catching you screwing another man. I heard you moaning on the other side of the door. You were... " His eyes darken and his voice cracks. "You were screaming his name. You told him you loved him."

This bitch doesn't even appear to be sorry, and Emma has the urge to slap some sense into her.

"But I was only with him because he was willing to make a commitment. He said if I left you, he would leave Emma and we would get married. But I didn't want to marry him. I want to marry _you, _Killian."

_Oh, for fuck's sake._

Milah places her hand on Killian's arm, but he pulls away from her.

"It's too late, Milah. If you wanted to get married, we could've had a discussion about it. You didn't have to go messing around with another man."

Milah's eyes glisten with tears, her face finally clouding with apology, now that she knows Killian doesn't plan on getting back with her. It's clear in his voice and the way he looks at her. Like she no longer has an effect on him. Emma is so proud of him at that moment, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Killian, I'm sorry, I had no idea you were going to propose. It's not too late. We can still get married. I will never see Walsh again, I promise."

"Thanks," he replies sarcastically, turning toward the car door and gripping the top of the frame, "but, no thanks."

"Killian, please!"

"It's too late, Milah. I've already moved on. I got a full refund for the ring and I'm leaving Boston without looking back." As he says this, his eyes are locked on Emma's.

"What?! You returned the ring?! But Killian, we can still get—"

Before she finishes her sentence, Killian is already in the car, slamming the door shut.

Milah's mouth falls open as she glares at Emma.

"Karma's a bitch, ain't it?" Emma asks, offering the woman a sweet, condescending smile. _God, it feels good saying that to her face. _"Good luck with Walsh. I hope you're both happy together." With that said, Emma opens the door and gets in, shutting the door. She turns the key in the ignition, the engine roars to life and she peels out of the parking spot, leaving Milah in the dust as the woman throws her purse on the ground in a childish tantrum.

Emma glances at Killian and sees the stoic expression on his face. "You okay?"

_Stupid question._

To her surprise though, he looks at her, a slow smile crossing his lips. He reaches out his hand to her, and she slips her palm in his, threading their fingers together. "I'm more than okay."

Her heart warms at his statement. He's glad he stayed strong. She's glad he didn't let Milah get to him. "Did you mean what you said? Are you really over her already?"

He nods and encases the back of her hand with his other one, bringing her fingers to lips, pressing sweet kisses to her knuckles. Her heart flutters at the touch of his lips as she glances over at him. "Aye, love. I was over her the day I met you."

Emma grins, her cheeks warming with blush as her eyes return to the road. That day will never again be remembered as the day they found out _those who shall not be named _were cheating on them, but it shall be remembered as the day Emma and Killian met—the day their lives changed for the better. It was not the end of their broken relationships, but the beginning of something _good. _

Something _really _good.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This ended up being really long, but there was not a good place to split it up, so here's the last chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

Cake flour, unsweetened cocoa powder, butter and oil, eggs, buttermilk, red food coloring. These are just a handful of the ingredients he needs to make the perfect red velvet cake. The perfect red velvet cake Mary Margaret has been kind enough to help him make. He's never made a cake before, so she gave him her recipe and offered to come over and help him with it. But he was determined to make it himself, so he took down several notes as she explained the specific techniques she uses, like how she separates the egg whites and whips them before folding the whites into the batter, and how she uses both butter and oil for a moist, soft, cakey texture, and a buttery flavor. She also explained how to make the frosting that pairs nicely with red velvet cake—cream cheese frosting. She told him to add a pinch of salt to offset the sweetness and to chill the frosting for twenty minutes so it will hold its shape before he slathers the white sugary goodness on the cake. He also watched several cake-making tutorials on youtube to see how cakes are put together.

When the cake is finished, it looks nowhere near perfect, and he's sure it doesn't taste nearly as good as Mary Margaret's, but he sure as hell tried. While the cake is setting in the refrigerator, he cooks the lasagna, another recipe Mary Margaret had gladly handed over to him. She even gave him some fresh tomatoes she picked from her own garden for the sauce, which he found out is her secret ingredient. _Fresh garden tomatoes. _Who would have thought that would make a huge difference, but it really does. And now Killian gets to replicate it. Okay, maybe not exactly, but he's sure it will be a close second.

So, why did the lasagna have to perfect, or at least close to perfect? Why did he want to use Mary Margaret's fresh garden tomatoes to replicate the best lasagna dish that ever existed? And why did he need the cake to be perfect? Why did the cake have to be red velvet, why did it have to have the perfect, light, soft-crumbled texture, why did the frosting have to be silky and sweet, but not too sweet? Why did he have to combine the perfect dinner dish with the perfect cake? Why did he have to go to the jewelry store and pick out the perfect piece of jewelry? Why did the apartment have to be neat and tidy, and why did he have to be so finicky about his outfit for the evening, even though he's not dressed up per se, but wearing his best pair of jeans and his red dress shirt with a black vest? Why was he so nervous about tonight?

Easy. It's his best friend's birthday. And he wants tonight to be _perfect. _Hence, he made her favorite dish, baked her favorite cake, and he picked out a bracelet that fits her style perfectly. He did all of these things because _she _is perfect. The perfect roommate, the perfect best friend, the perfect woman. She told him not to make a fuss about her birthday and that she just wanted to come home and relax after a long day at work, so he decided to throw a party of two. He knows she won't mind if it's just the two of them.

He and Emma have been roommates and best friends for six months. Six. Amazing. Months. The decision to move in together was easy. They both needed a place to live and they had both agreed to remain friends since they didn't want to be each other's rebound. That would have been an ugly situation, and Killian didn't want to take advantage of Emma. It's the very last thing he wanted to do. So he settled on being friends. Okay, settled is _not _the appropriate word. He _thoroughly enjoys _their friendship.

They talk about everything and do everything together; they go out to lunch and go shopping together. They share the chores around the apartment, they cook together, they've spent many nights binge-watching t.v. shows and having movie marathons on the sofa together. Some nights, they even share a bed together, but it took Killian a few months to trust himself enough to not molest Emma in her sleep after the whole incident at her brother's place.

He's surprised he never received a fist in the face from David for that. He's also surprised the Nolans forgave him when they learned Emma and Killian actually met the day they agreed to let him stay at their place. But they couldn't blame him because he'd told Emma he didn't want to impose on them, and she was too stubborn to listen. He doesn't blame her though because she was trying to help him. And he'll appreciate that gesture until the day he dies.

When neither of them is working, he and Emma are inseparable. The only things they haven't done together is shower and engage in other enjoyable activities in bed, but he's totally okay with that. He's completely in love with his best friend, but that's neither here nor there. He's not about to fuck up what they have by admitting his feelings to her, because what they have is too damn good.

Killian grabs two oven mitts and takes the pan of lasagna out of the oven once it's done. The cheese is bubbling as he sets the pan on the counter. He inhales through his nose, taking in the delicious aromas of fresh tomato sauce, Italian sausage and a mixture of different types of cheeses. If it tastes half as good it looks and smells then he'll be extremely happy.

He's smiling in success as he hears keys jingling outside the apartment and the sound of the door opening. He pulls off the mitts, setting them on the counter and strides across the kitchen to meet Emma at the door.

When she steps inside, she looks completely drained from working at the station. She immediately pulls off her boots and when she rises, he can see the tiredness in her jaded, green eyes, which seem to spark to life when she catches a whiff of the lasagna, a weak smile pulling at her lips.

"You made lasagna?"

"I did." He graces her with a warm smile and leans in, kissing her on the cheek. "Happy birthday Emma."

Her smile widens and she draws him into a hug, their arms wrapping around one another. "You know you didn't have to, right?"

Killian chuckles against her, murmuring in her ear. "I knew you would say that. I also knew I didn't have to. I _wanted _to."

She squeezes him tightly, and he groans playfully, pretending to be squeezed to death. She laughs and swats him playfully. "Thank you, Killian."

He pulls his lips away from her ear to face her, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're welcome, love." He lifts his head to press a kiss to her forehead. "Now go and get dressed into something comfortable. You look beat."

Emma smiles as they pull away, and she lowers her gaze, taking in his outfit before returning her eyes to his. "But if I wore something comfortable, I'd be in my PJs. And you're all dressed up, I'd feel underdressed, but honestly my PJs sound so good."

He chuckles. "Love, you are not allowed to eat your birthday dinner in anything other than your PJs. How does that sound?"

Emma laughs and doesn't seem to be opposed. "Sounds perfect."

"Good, now go before I eat all the lasagna myself," he teases.

She starts making her way past him. "I'm going," she says and spins around when she's halfway across the room, pointing a finger as she continues to walk toward her bedroom. "Don't you dare start without me," she warns with a big smile.

He smirks playfully, his eyes flashing with a bit of mischief. "I would never dream of starting anything without you."

"Good." She turns around again and disappears into the hall.

Killian goes into the kitchen and grabs two plates and a spatula, dishing out the lasagna. He takes the food to the coffee table and returns to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He sits on the couch, lighting some candles, and he's filling the glasses with wine when Emma appears in the room, donning a frail smile.

She looks absolutely stunning.

She's wearing a pale pink tank top and a pair of white pajama shorts with pink hearts, her long, golden curls spilling over her shoulders as she plops down on the couch next to him, her eyes widening as she takes in the view of the lasagna, the wine and the candles. "Wow, I really feel underdressed now."

He sets down the wine bottle and turns his head toward her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. "You look perfect."

Emma's blushing as he pulls away. "Thanks." She gazes at him wistfully, and her eyes start to well up with tears. She looks like she might cry as her eyes return to the display on the coffee table. "Thank you, Killian, this is so great."

"This is just the beginning, love."

She lifts a thin brow in bewilderment. "There's more?"

Killian chuckles and leaves the room to retrieve the gift he got for her. He was going to wait until after dinner, but now's as good a time as any. A minute later, he's reclaiming his spot next to Emma as he hands her the gift.

Her eyes widen as she sees the rectangular-shaped gift encased in gold wrapping paper. "Did you wrap this yourself?"

He nods. "Aye." He smirks and holds up his hands. "You'd be surprised what I can do with these hands."

Killian notices the light tint of pink in her cheeks and a hint of a smirk on her lips, as though she wouldn't mind finding out what exactly what he's capable of doing with those hands. She carefully peels the wrapping paper away, not wanting to ruin the beautiful wrapping paper. She opens the slim black box to find the beautiful, silver charm bracelet inside. Her eyes widen, a gasp leaving her lips as she takes the bracelet out of the box, fingering the different charms.

Emma laughs once she realized what he's done. "Each charm fits my style."

He grins, "Aye, it has all your favorite things."

He had chosen each charm specifically to mirror her tastes. A buttercup, which is her favorite flower, a horse, her favorite animal and a pair of Uggs, which are her favorite type of boots. The bracelet has a Volkswagen bug for the vehicle she drives, a deputy badge for her new job and a swan for her last name. It also has a heart-shaped charm inscribed with her name. But his favorite charm is the one she's currently looking at, her thumb brushing over it. A tear slides down her cheek. "You included our friendship…"

Killian's heart flutters. He loves that she noticed what the pair of hands holding onto one another meant. It symbolizes their friendship, and Emma only had to glance at it to know that. "Aye, love, I did. How could I forget such an important aspect of your life?" he asks playfully, hoping she agrees.

Emma laughs. "No, we can't forget that." She leans her head on his shoulder, her voice more sincere. "Our friendship _is _really important to me. Thank you for this. It's beautiful." She peels her eyes away from the charm bracelet and leans in, kissing his cheek. Her lips are soft against his skin as she lingers a bit longer than he'd expected. She pulls away and drapes the bracelet around her wrist.

He helps her with the clasp and brings her wrist to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss there. _"You're _beautiful."

Her cheeks tinge with blush, a bright smile curving her lips, as she playfully swats his shoulder. "Stop, you're making me blush."

He cocks a brow, smirking vibrantly. "I fail to see the problem. It's a good look on you."

She laughs and cups her cheeks in her hands to hide them. "You're making it worse."

"Still don't see the problem, love."

She shakes her head, still smiling as she leans over, grabbing her plate of lasagna. "Let's eat before the food gets cold."

He retrieves the other plate from the coffee table, and the room grows silent for a moment, apart from the noises she makes while she eats. "Mmmmm."

A hint of a smile plays at his lips. He enjoys watching her as she enjoys the food he made her. Several _mmmms _later, he finally asks, "I take it you like the lasagna?"

She nods and swallows the food in her mouth with a sip of wine. "Are you kidding? It's sooo good, it tastes like Mary Margert's lasagna, maybe even a little better."

Killian smirks against the rim of his glass as he takes a sip.

Emma turns her head, eyes narrowed at him. "Did she help you make this?"

He swallows the liquid in his mouth and nods. "Aye. She gave me the recipe and her garden tomatoes."

"When was she here?"

"She wasn't. I called her and wrote down all of the instructions she gave me."

"So, you made this by yourself?"

"With her recipe and a bunch of notes, yes."

"Well, you follow directions well because this is amazing," she compliments, licking her lips.

"Thank you, love." He grins proudly, his heart bursting with relief. She said his lasagna was better than Mary Margaret's!

When they've finished the lasagna, Killian brings the plates to the sink and retrieves the cake from the refrigerator. He grabs a candle and a lighter from the kitchen drawer, lighting the candle. He hasn't mentioned he made her a cake yet.

"That was so good," she calls from the living room. "I'm ready to sleep now."

He grabs the platter of cake and carries it into the living room. The sofa she's sitting on is facing away from him, so she can't see when he enters the room.

"Not yet, love. You have to try the cake."

She turns her head around, her eyes widening as she sees the red velvet dessert. "There's cake, too?"

He chuckles. "What birthday is complete without a cake?" He walks slowly across the room, singing happy birthday, and Emma's laughing as she watches him. He takes a seat next to her, facing her as he holds the cake, shifting it over slightly so he can lean in and kiss her on the cheek. "Happy birthday, love," he whispers softly. He pulls away and holds up the cake in front of her face. "Now, make a wish and blow out the candle."

She's more serious now, although there's still a hint of a smile on her face and her eyes are locked on his as she blows out the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks, setting the cake on the table.

"If I tell you, it won't come true."

He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout but accepts her answer, hoping whatever she wished for does come true. He goes to the kitchen and returns, cutting a slice of cake and transferring it to a small plate.

Emma's eyes are wide as she looks at the tall slice. "Wow, not only is red velvet my favorite, but it looks amazing. Don't tell me you made this too?"

He nods, grinning smugly. "Oh, but I did," he replies, handing her the plate. "Again following your sister-in-law's instructions."

"You really shouldn't have." She takes the fork he offers her and takes a bite of it. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, a low moan crawling from her throat. "Oh my god, this is sooooo good," she mumbles with a mouthful of cake. "Like really, _really _ good."

"Really?"

She nods profusely and takes another bite. "Like better than sex _good." _She moans again, filling his mind with unbidden imagery as he watches her.

He lifts a brow, a cocky smirk curving his lips. As happy as he is to hear how much she likes his cake, he has to wonder if it's really as good as she says it is or if she doesn't have much to compare it to. "Maybe you just haven't had great sex, love," he muses, a warm blush spreading through his cheeks.

She licks her lips, staring at him, as though he might be right. "That's very possible. He who shall not be named wasn't very good in the sack."

"And yet, apparently he was good enough for she who shall not be named."

"Or maybe she was only faking it," Emma conjectures, piercing another piece of cake with the fork and offering it to him.

"That's a possibility," he replies, wondering if Emma faked her orgasms with him. But he doesn't wish to dwell on the subject and banishes the thought. He opens his mouth, closing his lips around the fork prongs to scoop up the cake. "Mmmm." He nods and licks his lips. "That _is _better than sex."

"See? I told you." Emma sits back against the couch, continuing to eat as he grabs a plate for himself and they both eat in silence. "Oh, crap."

Killian looks over to see what happened and immediately regrets it.

A small amount of frosting had fallen from the fork and landed in her cleavage. He takes one look at her and has to refrain from groaning as he quickly faces forward again. He sets the cake down and is about to get up to retrieve a napkin, but before he does, she scoops up the frosting with her finger and brings it to her mouth, sucking on her digits. "Mmmm, it's still good," she comments, licking her lips.

_Fuck._

He's sure it is good. He wonders if she tastes even better than the cake. Killian tries to rid the thoughts from his mind as he grabs his plate of cake again and continues to eat.

Emma finishes her slice and sets the plate down, holding her belly as she slumps back into the couch. "I'm so full now."

He cranes his neck to look at her and he can still see remnants from where the frosting fell between her breasts.

She catches him staring and furrows her brows in confusion. What?"

"You still have some frosting there, love," he says, pointing to his chest.

She peers down at herself and laughs, looking up at him again. She must sense his uneasiness because she gives him a lazy smirk. "That doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?"

He chuckles and looks away. "Nope, not at all."

"Mmhmmm," she nods. "Then I guess you won't mind if I just leave it there…"

This woman is trying to torture him.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Fine by me."

He plans to avoid looking at her at all costs, but the little minx sits up and reaches for the remote, which is on the other side of the cake, and she makes sure to give him a better view of her breasts with the frosting still smudged on her soft skin. He tries not to look, but it's very hard not to. It's indeed very _hard._

He shifts in his seat, realizing the effect she has on him and he shoots up from the couch as she turns on the television. "Let me get you a napkin." He flees from the room and grabs some napkins, releasing a heavy sigh. He looks down at himself and he's as hard as a fucking rock.

_Bloody hell. _

Reluctantly, he heads back to the couch and sits next to her, handing her the napkin. She takes it, and looks disappointed that he's ruining her fun. Just as she's about to dab the frosting with the napkin, he reaches out and grabs her hand to stop her before he even thinks about what he's doing.

Emma's eyes snap up, meeting his heated gaze. He can see the longing in her eyes. She is the one with the ability to read people, but after six months he's able to read his best friend pretty damn well.

She wants him.

Hopefully just as much as he wants her. When her eyes drop to his lips, it only proves his theory to be true.

Slowly, he brings his hands to her face, his left thumb brushing over her cheek. When she lifts her eyes and stares directly into his soul, his heart starts pounding mercilessly. He leans in and catches her eyelids fluttering before he closes his eyes, softly capturing her lips. It takes her no time at all to react. She drops the napkin on the floor and curls her hands around the collar of his shirt as she moves her lips against his.

He can't believe he's actually kissing his best friend, and it hasn't really sunk yet. They've shared pecks on the cheeks, on each other's forehead and other innocent parts of their body, but never once has he kissed her on the mouth until now. Those were all friendly, chaste kisses meant to express their affection toward one another, but this is vastly different. This kiss is hot and volcanic, every inch of his skin exploding as he savors the delicate press of her lips; they're soft and pliant against his own, his tongue darting out to trace the taste of cake at the seam blocking the entrance to her mouth.

She parts her lips, allowing his tongue to swoop in and taste her. She's more delicious than he'd imagined. Her mouth is soft and tastes like red velvet and cream cheese, and he sucks on her tongue to get more of her flavor. Once he tastes her, he can't enough. The slowness of the kiss is gone, rapidly heating up, his hands sliding into her hair until his fingers are entangled in her soft curls. Kissing her is everything he imagined it to be. Her _mouth _is everything he imagined it would be; it's an intoxicating mixture of soft lips, a warm, eager tongue, playful nips and her sweet, decadent taste.

Emma climbs atop him, straddling his lap, their lips never disconnecting as his arms snake around her. His palms are on the small of her back, fingers digging into her as he pulls her to him until her breasts are flush against his chest. He becomes infused with the couch beneath him, melting in the cushions as her body molds into his.

He kisses her with the intensity of the feelings he's held for her over the past six months. He's waited all this time until it was the right time for both of them. He wanted to rebound after what that wretched bitch did to him, but truth be told, he couldn't stomach the idea of being with a woman who wasn't Emma. He tried going on dates, but none of the women was his Swan, so he never went further than dinner with them. Emma had the same issue, although she'd never said, or at least never admitted out loud that it was because of him.

He releases her lips, leaving them both panting for air, his breath ragged on her skin as his lips drag across her jaw. He takes some of her hair in his hand, gently tugging her head back so he can kiss down the column of her neck, his lips moving in a blazing hot pursuit. Her mouth is so heavenly, he didn't want to stop kissing her, but at the same time, he's eager to taste other parts of her.

His hands slide underneath the hem of her shirt, fingers wrapping around her slim waist as he kisses the tops of her breasts, licking off the remaining frosting off her skin. Both of them moan at the contact, and her fingers scrub through his hair as he savors the added sugary sweetness mixed with the tangy sweetness of her skin on his tongue. He kisses her there with the hunger of a man who's been fasting his whole life. He's tasted nothing so delicious, and he's dying to taste her most secret place because he can only imagine what he's doing to her and what that tastes like.

He's back at her mouth, but only long enough to find her tongue again, getting another taste. He tears his lips away to pull off her shirt and sees that she's not wearing a bra. He growls, his cock twitching in his pants as his eyes glide over her beautiful bare breasts, her pink nipples stiffening under her gaze. He's touched them before, six months ago while he was half asleep… while he was dreaming of she who shall not be named.

Killian lifts his eyes to Emma's as he remembers the promise he made to her. His hands are on her hips as she's unbuttoning his vest, and apparently she can read his thoughts.

"You're not thinking of Milah are you?" she asks playfully.

He lowers his head and moves in, kissing the valley of her breasts. "Who the hell is Milah?" He breathes in Emma's intoxicating scent as he wraps his arms around her back and kisses along the curve of her breast, eagerly drawing a nipple into his mouth.

Emma moans, melting into him as her fingers curl around his dark locks of hair. He sucks on the hardened bud, taking her other breast in his hand, squeezing and pulling her nipple. He licks her, twirling his tongue around her areola, and sucks her bud into his mouth, groaning several times at how good she tastes. How good she feels in his mouth. His hands and lips take turns exploring her lovely breasts, switching back and forth between each one. Both of her breasts are perfect—the perfect size, the perfect amount of softness, the perfect nipples colored with the perfect shade of pink—he couldn't pick a favorite from the two of them if he wanted to.

As soon as he pulls away, Emma's shoving off his vest, and together they pull off his shirt. Her eyes light up as takes in the view of his body, her hands gravitating to his chest like they belong there, fingers combing through his chest hair. Her touch ignites his skin.

"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out the candle?" she asks, lifting her eyes to his.

Killian raises a curious brow. "I thought it wouldn't come true if you told me, love?" he asks, his voice completely wrecked.

Mischief laces her little smile. "It already did."

Killian's heart pounds in his chest. Her statement could only mean one thing.

"I wished for you to kiss me."

He smiles and wraps his arms around her back, pulling her to him. "Well, then you were wrong in assuming your wish wouldn't come true if you told me… because I would've kissed you either way."

Emma grins happily, wraps her arms around the back of his neck and smashes her lips against his, kissing him breathlessly. He groans in her mouth when her breasts are pressed against his chest and he can feel how hard her gorgeous nipples are through his hair. With their lips attached, Killian scoops her up in his arms and lays her on the couch, her head resting on the arm of the sofa as he explores her body, his fingers kneading her breasts before trickling down her body. When he reaches her core through the thin fabric of her shorts, he can feel the heat of her dampness gathering at the crux of her thighs.

Emma moans, writhing underneath him. "Killian… I want you…"

_Oh, gods._

He didn't think it was possible to want her more, but hearing her beg for him causes something to snap inside him, and he's desperate to grant another one of her wishes. He tucks his thumbs under the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down as she raises her hips to allow him to remove them, and once again he growls. She's not wearing knickers either.

He pulls the shorts the rest of the way down her long, silky smooth legs and throws them carelessly on the floor, his eyes sweeping over her gorgeous, glistening folds as she spreads her legs for him. "Fuck, Emma," he groans, wrapping his hand around her foot to plant a kiss on the tops of her toes. "You're trying to kill me."

She's grinning devilishly at him from where she lays. "That was the plan."

He lifts both eyebrows and smirks. "So you put on these pajamas with no underwear, hoping I would find out? Hoping I would see you without them?"

Emma nods slowly, biting her smile. "That was my other wish."

_Fuck. _

Knowing she came home and dressed specifically for him, purposely not wearing any underwear with the anticipation of having him see her without them makes his head spin. It's so fucking hot, he could explode from merely looking at her from his current angle.

His fingers move, finding her where she's dripping wet, his touch ghosting over her clit, making her back arch. She sucks in a shallow breath and he looks up at her face, seeing her eyes glowing in anticipation.

A low growl crawls from his throat. "I've barely touched you and you're already fucking soaked for me."

"Told you, you're what I wished for."

"So, this is all for me?"

She nods, unashamed of herself. "God, yes." Her voice is wrecked, and it's clear how deprived she truly was of him.

His hand falls to her entrance, her nectar coating his fingertips. He wants to lick up her goodness and tongue her into oblivion. His cock twitches at the thought.

Gods, he can't wait to taste her. He presses two fingers inside of her cunt, her muscles tightening around him, begging for more contact.

Without warning, he pushes the two teasing fingers deep inside her, watching as Emma's mouth opens, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she rocks her hips into his touch. Her cheeks and chest are already flushed red, her chest lifting and falling sporadically as he rubs that little sweet spot inside her wet heat. She's completely naked and her lips are swollen, her eyes darkened with lust. It's a glorious sight to behold.

She's so tight around him, and he can't wait to feel her around his cock, but first, he's dying to taste her. He climbs atop her and begins kissing his way down her beautiful, writhing body. Her breasts, her nipples, her stomach. As he thrusts his fingers deep in her cunt, he makes his way lower and lower until he's off the couch, kneeling on the floor. He's leaning over her, planting soft kisses on her nub, which is clean-shaven and smooth under his lips. Her legs are spread wide for him as he tenderly kisses each of her inner thighs, inhaling her lovely feminine scent. He growls in anticipation of having her in his mouth.

He wraps his arms around her thighs and lifts her legs over his shoulders for better access, his teeth biting along her soft flesh, indelibly marking her skin as her dripping pussy is only centimeters away from his mouth. Not wasting any more time, he swipes his tongue out to lick her. Even though she knows it's coming, Emma lets out a small gasp of surprise as he drags his tongue from her soaked entrance to her clit. He smiles to himself at the sounds she makes before capturing her clit with his lips, his tongue flicking over her flesh, sucking softly, making her hips jolt.

He's so glad to realize he was wrong before when he thought she tasted as good as the cake. She tastes much better than the cake. He groans against her sensitive flesh, already in love with her flavor as he tongues her with long, languid strokes, eagerly laving up her arousal. He sucks at her lips, experimenting with different techniques around her clit. But it doesn't matter how he licks her; the results are the same. A slew of moans pour from her lips as her hands are buried in his tousled hair, her knuckles probably white from how tightly she's gripping onto him as she rolls her hips into him, desperately riding his face, and presses firmer and closer until he has to regulate his breathing, surrounded by the taste and smell and feel of her cunt.

Killian doesn't let up, his mouth and tongue exploring her thoroughly, working wonders on her. He can tell Emma is completely helpless on the other side of the couch, her breathing accelerated as she feels one of his hands slide away from her thigh, to her opening. Two fingers dive deep with little effort, her own slickness and how soft her inner walls are make a perfect combination in aiding him in his endeavor of making her cum in his mouth.

His cock is aching to take her, but he's too focused on her pleasure to do anything about it. He knows she's close to coming when her legs start to shake on either side of his head. Killian increases his ministrations, tonging and finger fucking his best friend into submission.

"Killian… oh god…" The nails of her fingers dig into his scalp, but not deep enough to hurt him. In fact, he loves how restless she is, how much she craves his tongue whenever he pulls away slightly, making her squirm for more. "Killian, please… I'm so fucking close," Emma whimpers, her muscles twitching around his talented tongue.

When he curls his fingers inside her, she flies over the edge, her delicious ambrosia exploding in his mouth. Her entire body wrenches, her moans dying down as she falls from the precipice of her orgasm.

He's not finished when her body goes limp from her climax and keeps torturing the sensitive bud between his lips with a slow, circling tongue. Soft whimpers pour from her lovely lips, her eyes closed, mouth parted slightly as she basks in the afterglow of her orgasm. His fingers keep working in and out of her, coaxing more stimulation with each coordinated stoke.

He doesn't want to stop, he could do this all night, but he knows all good things must come to an end. He leaves a lingering lick along her slit and a gentle, wet kiss to her nub, making her wince with sensitivity. He groans as he removes his fingers from her core, sliding them into his mouth, eyes fixating on the eyes smiling over at him. She lifts her hand and croaks a finger, beckoning to him. He responds to her summons and climbs on the couch, gently laying on top of her. She cups his cheeks in her hands, bringing his lips to hers, pressing his wet scruff against her lips so she can taste herself. She moans into his mouth as he brushes his tongue against hers.

She reaches between them and undoes his pants, slipping her hand inside his boxers. He lifts himself up just enough to allow her to wrap her hand around his cock. They both moan at the contact.

"Take your pants off," she demands, giving his shaft a few firm pumps. He groans and thrusts his hips into her touch. "That's another one of my wishes."

He chuckles against her lips. "You're a demanding little thing, aren't you?"

She smirks slyly. "It's my birthday. I'm allowed to be demanding. I want your pants off and your dick inside me."

Killian growls and wastes not another second, practically leaping off the couch and lifting her up. He tries to navigate across the room with her lips latched onto his and her legs wrapped around his waist as he carries her to his bedroom and lowers her feet to the floor once they're past the threshold.

They're still kissing as Emma pulls his pants down, and he removes his shoes and tugs off his pants, tossing them aside. Emma tears her lips away, her eyes scanning over his throbbing erection, tongue sweeping hungrily over her lips. This is the first time they've seen each other naked, and it's glorious. Killian doesn't wish this night to end so quickly and he's afraid once he's inside her, he won't last long. So, he pulls her into his arms, his hands sliding down her backside and over her butt, squeezing firmly as Emma's lips make a trail down his neck and over his chest, every kiss burning his skin. She moves her hands up and down his body, both of them exploring each curve and contour of the other. Emma curls her hand around his cock and strokes him as he fingers her. The noises they make fill the room, and before he explodes in her hand, he lifts her up and brings her to the bed, depositing her onto the mattress.

His mouth is back on hers, and they're kissing again, their bodies writhing, hands continuing to explore each other until they're panting profusely, heartbeats slamming against their chests.

"Shall we use protection?" he asks, remembering he has an old pack of condoms in his sock drawer. "I have some condoms, but they're more than six months old." He hasn't used them since he was with _what's her name _? He honestly can't remember, he's too enamored with the woman beneath him.

"That's okay, I'm on birth control and I've been tested since I found out that asshole was cheating on me."

"I got tested as well."

Emma smirks mischievously. "Good, because I want to feel you inside me. I want to feel it when you cum inside me. That's my next wish."

Killian groans and crushes her lips with his. He's so fucking hard, he can't wait a second longer to have her. In one fluid motion, he maneuvers the head of his cock at her entrance, pushing himself into her. Emma moans and wraps her legs tightly around him. She reaches behind him and grabs his ass, her fingers squeezing him, pushing him in deep so he's stretching her wide. He groans, finally feeling those soft, slick walls around his cock and he thrusts into her, his eyes rolling back in his head. She's so tight and warm and it doesn't take much for him to feel like he's on the verge of his climax. He lowers his head and mouths her breasts, hoping to distract himself from coming too soon, but it's not working very well. She feels too damn good.

"Gods, you feel incredible," he groans, pulling away from her breasts, his fingers clutching at her soft thighs. "I'm so close already."

"Me too. Fuck me harder, Killian. You feel so good inside me," she moans, her voice completely wrecked as her hands move to his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin.

His heart is pounding erratically in his ear but somehow he manages to make out her reply, changing the angle of his hips in answer and snapping into her. He reaches between their bodies to where they're joined and he strokes her clit to take her with him. A string of curses and moans pour from her mouth as he fingers and fucks her at the same time, bringing them both closer and closer to the edge.

He can feel it; the pleasure that had been roiling low in his belly since they started kissing, finally releases. It spreads through him, burning away anything else, the outside world fading away until the only thing that remains is them here together, making love. He looks deeply into her eyes, which are full of warmth and perhaps something else as she gazes up at him, and he can think of nothing but the two of them. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and she places her hands on his back as he moves inside her.

"Emma… oh, gods," he whispers in her ear, his words shattered. The building pressure spreads inside him until it becomes unbearable and he rocks into her relentlessly until he explodes inside her, filling her up with his cum, just as she'd wished for. Emma cries out and shudders beneath him as her own orgasm catapults through her body, fingernails digging into his skin, her toes curling against his thighs.

When they finally come back to themselves, Killian collapses into the mattress beside her, pulling the blankets over them. Emma lays her head on his chest, placing her hand on his stomach as he presses soft kisses through her hair.

"Gods, Emma, that was…"

"About bloody time? Worth the wait? Fucking incredible? Better than cake?" she laughs languidly. "Did I forget anything?"

"Agreed, agreed, agreed, _definitely _agreed. And nope, I think that about covers my thoughts exactly," he chuckles, running his fingers up and down her arm. Although, there is one thing she didn't mention that he wonders about. "I'll be sure to tell Mary Margaret, my replications of her recipes were a complete success."

Emma laughs. "She'll be happy to hear that. Though you may not want to tell her just how successful they were," she adds, combing her fingers through his chest hair.

"Ah, so you're saying my cooking abilities determined how the night played out?" he teases playfully.

She shakes her head against his chest. "No, I think we'd end up here in bed regardless of how you cooked lasagna and baked the cake."

He cocks a brow, peering down at her. "So, I would have been able to lure you into bed without my cooking skills?"

She swats him playfully. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you've got some talent in the kitchen. In fact, I think you're in the wrong profession and should've been a cook instead. But let's face it…" Emma pauses in hesitation as her soft, green eyes look over at him, "we would have ended up together regardless of how tonight panned out."

Killian's heart flutters underneath her hand. "You're sure about that, huh?"

"Yeah, why do you think I never went on those dates Mary Margaret tried to get me to go on?"

"Because I know you have a hard time trusting men after being burned twice."

She nods. "I do, but I couldn't even talk myself into having a one night stand with anyone," she confesses, her eyes flicking to his. "You're the one guy I _do _ trust. You're my best friend."

Killian is relieved to hear her say those things. He'd imagined that's how she felt, but hearing her say it out loud and knowing he wasn't alone in his feelings, gave him a huge sense of relief. "Well, love, I haven't been able to be with anyone else either. How could I when I'm in love with someone else? You are the most amazing woman I've ever met. The feistiest woman, the most beautiful. No one else could possibly compare," he murmurs, lifting his hand to her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

Emma lifts her head from his chest. "Killian, did you just say you loved me?"

_Shit. _He did. He didn't even realize he'd said it.

Taking in the embarrassed look on his face and the rosy blush crawling up his cheeks, Emma can't help herself and starts giggling. As to be expected, this doesn't improve the situation and, if possible, he blushes even more.

He gulps thickly, clearing his throat. Is she laughing because she finds it funny that he could be in love with her or is she laughing because she thinks he's joking? He guesses it's better than if she had a negative reaction. But, if she finds out that he's not joking, will she run? Will she be scared or mad at him? Does she even feel the same way he does?

"I didn't… I… no, ugh..." he stutters, sinking his head into the pillow, and runs his hands over his burning red face. He's not actually embarrassed by his confession, but he's afraid if he tells her the truth, he'll lose her.

"Oh, come on, Killian," she tries again, completely flustered, burying her head under the pillow.

This is not how he wanted to express his feelings for her. He also hadn't planned on taking her to bed before he told her. He would have been content on spending the rest of her birthday cuddled up on the couch and catching up on The Good Place on Netflix while trying to build up the courage to confess his love for his best friend.

So much for that.

Emma replaces the pillow under her head and takes his hand into her own, intertwining their fingers. Her giggling slowly fades into a whole-hearted smile as her eyes with his and places a soothing palm on his cheek to calm him. He stares into her eyes trying to read what she's thinking, but maybe he's not as good at reading her as he thought.

"I love you, too, Killian," she says with a grin.

"You do?"

"Of course I do."

Killian breathes the longest sigh of relief he's ever breathed before. "Thank God. I was afraid that after my Freudian slip of the tongue, I'd lose you."

She shakes her head against the pillow, still donning a smile. "You could never lose me."

He turns on his side to face her and plants a brief, but tender kiss on her lips, all the frustrated tension he'd built up during the conversation easing up. He takes a deep, shaky breath and looks her straight in the eye, the tranquility in her emerald orbs giving him the courage he needs to tell her the truth that he's spent the last few months trying to tell her, and apparently already has. But she needs to know his slip of the tongue wasn't a mistake. "I love you, Emma." He smiles and lifts his hand to stroke her hair. "You are my light and I am so glad we met. So glad you were at my door that day six months ago. You stopped me from making a big mistake by going into that apartment. And you've stayed by my side ever since."

She smiles and raises her hand to his cheek, her thumb gently caressing his skin. "Well, you know what they say… sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

He nods. "This is definitely better. _Much _better. And it's only the beginning." He kisses her again, his heart exploding with joy. He feels like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders since he told her. Since he knows she feels the same as he does. Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against hers as she licks her lips. "So… anymore wishes for your birthday?" he asks with a mischievous smirk.

Emma laughs and presses her body into his, hooking an arm around his waist and nuzzling her face into his chest. "No, I have everything I need right here."

Her words warm his heart, and he wraps her up in his arms, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'm glad. Happy birthday, Emma." He's lulled to sleep by the sound of her soft breathing and thoughts of how much his life has changed over the last six months.

When he arrived at his flat in Boston six months ago, after the flight from England, the woman he thought he would spend the rest of his life with was betraying him on the other side of the door. Little did he know the woman he would actually spend the rest of his life with was on his doormat. When his plans all went to hell, when everything around him had a crack in it, he found the light that shone through. When he should have been hopeless, falling down an endless spiral of misery and sorrow, he instead found a glimmer of hope.

He found Emma and never looked back.


	8. Milah's POV

**A/N:** **This is in MILAH'S POV. Although we will get to see what happens with Killian and Emma, this is solely Milah's perspective and a glimpse into her future after she has lost the greatest man in her life. This has been in my head since I finished the story, and finally got around to writing it down. I cannot express this enough, Emma and Killian ****_are not present_**** in this part, they are only mentioned and appear in a photo, so if you don't care to read Milah's perspective, please don't read this.**

* * *

_**5 years later...**_

Milah brings the mail in after a long day at the office. She pours a glass of wine, sipping on it slowly as she leafs through the pile. It's mostly junk, a few bills, and her divorce decree. She's glad to finally be rid of that bastard of a husband. One by one, she deposits the junk mail into the trashcan when one piece of mail, in particular, grabs her attention before she lets it slips from her fingers. She brings it to eye level, scanning over the big navy blue envelope.

She glances at the return address. It's from Killian Jones. Her eyes widen as she tears it open. Killian found out where she lives now and is trying to get back with her? A smile blooms over her lips at the prospect of this. Cheating on that man was the biggest mistake of her life, and since then she's gone through three divorces, Walsh being her first husband before he ended up having an affair with a salesgirl he hired who is half his age. After Milah left the bastard and quit her job at his fucking furniture shop, she heard he promoted his new girlfriend to a sales manager, even though she was a terrible employee. The other salespeople all left, flipping Walsh off as they flew out the door.

Milah pulls out the card from the envelope and her heart plummets when she sees the content. It's a fancy wedding invitation, embellished with a border of cream lace and a big navy blue bow near the bottom with a silver clasp in the middle of the bow. At the top are the initials, E&K in big, fancy lettering. The wedding is for Killian and Walsh's ex, Emma Swan. Millah grips onto the card tightly, her lips twisting in disdain. Here she thought he was getting back together with her, but it turns out he's marrying another woman. What in the hell does Killian see in that bitch, anyway? Walsh cheated on her, so why would Killian think she would good enough to hold on to?

Maybe this invitation is a sign. Maybe there is still hope that she can get Killian Jones back after all. She can call up Walsh and get him to be her plus one at the wedding. Together they can get Emma and Killian to cheat on each other with their exes on their wedding day. A wicked grin crawls over her lips at the thought. When she removes the bow to reveal the time and place of the invitation, her face clouds with disappointment and confusion. Their wedding was three years ago. So why are they sending her an invitation three years later? Are they trying to taunt her? Perhaps to get her back for cheating on him?

_Assholes._ She picks up the envelope, and she's about to rip up the invitation and toss them both in the trash when something falls out of the envelope. A letter and a picture. There's a family photo of Killian and Emma and two small children. One's a girl about two years old and the other one is a baby Emma is holding as Killian has his arms around all three of them, kissing Emma's cheek.

They're all smiling, and they look happy. Blissfully and disgustingly happy.

Milah quickly shakes away the thought, her blood bubbling under her skin. Why did they send her this? Perhaps the answer is in the letter.

She unfolds the paper and starts reading it.

_Dear Milah, _ _You're probably wondering why I'm sending you a wedding invitation three years after the fact. But make no mistake. I'm not trying to rub anything in your face, if that's what you're thinking. _

Milah scoffs. She wasn't thinking that. Okay, maybe a little.

_I'm also not stalking you, if that's also what you're thinking. Emma's good at finding people if you hadn't learned that from before. So that's how I found your address. _ _The truth is, I'm sending you this invitation and writing this letter because I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Emma and I both want to thank you. I know, you're thinking to yourself that it's weird I'm thanking you for cheating on me, but it's truly the best thing you could've done to me. If you never cheated on me with Walsh, Emma wouldn't have been on my doormat that day and I wouldn't have found the best thing that ever happened to me. Emma and I became best friends, we got together six months later, we married a year and a half after that and we now have two beautiful children. We named our daughter Hope and our son Luke. They both represent the light we found in each other that day, and each and every day I thank the stars they are in my life. _ _I'm not sure if you're still with Walsh, probably not, because even after what happened between us, I still think you're too good for him. So, I hope you've moved on from him and found someone to love you like I once loved you, maybe even a little more. I used to blame myself for what happened; I used to think maybe I wasn't enough for you and that's why cheated on me. You said it was because I took too long to propose but maybe there was more to it than that. Anyway, I hope you have found someone who could fill the void I couldn't fill for you. If not, I know you will. We had a very good beginning, you and I, and thanks to you, I have found my happy ending. I truly hope you can do the same and find your happy ending someday. And when you do, you're more than welcome to send me the past wedding invitation and a photo of your beautiful family. _ _Best wishes to you, _ _Killian _

A tear slides down Milah's cheek after reading the letter. He actually thanked her for cheating on him?! What a moron. She sniffles and wipes her tear away. Maybe he's right, maybe she _can_ find her happy ending. But how can she? She blew any chance of that when she cheated on the best man she has ever known. Killian was supposed to be her happy ending, and when he caught her cheating, that was the worst day of her life.

She wants to tear the letter in half and throw it away, but she decides against it. Maybe she will find a man better than Killian. She holds onto the letter, determined she will find a man better than Killian and she will send a photo of her and her happy family to rub it in Killian's and that bitch's face. Yes, that's exactly what she'll do.

But who is she kidding? There really is no better man than Killian Jones.

No, there has to be, and she is bound and determined to find him.

Her doorbell rings and she places the mail on the table, grabs some cash from her purse and gets up to answer the door. She didn't feel like cooking tonight so she'd ordered a pizza. She pulls open the door, expecting the usual delivery boy, but when she sees the man on the other side of the door, she realizes he is no boy. He's a man, an older one at that, but still handsome. They do get more handsome with age after all.

"Evening, Ma'am," he greets her warmly, handing her the box of pizza.

_Shit, he has an accent too? Well, fuck me sideways. _A grin makes its way across her lips.

"Sorry, your pizza's late. My son didn't show up for his shift, so I got stuck making all of his deliveries."

Her eyes light up with realization. She remembered the usual delivery boy mentioning his father was the owner of Gold's Pizza. She flashes him a small smile and waves his words off before handing him the cash for the pizza, plus a little extra as a tip. "It's no problem."

"Thank you, deary. And thank you for choosing Gold's pizza."

"So, you're Mr. Gold, the owner?"

He flashes a toothy grin and sticks out his hand. "Robert Gold at your service. And you are?"

"I'm Milah." Her smile widens as she slips her palm into his, expecting him to shake her hand, but instead, he brings the back of her hand to his lips. Her heart flutters and she feels flushed when his lips touch her skin. She presses her other hand to her chest to refrain from fanning herself. She remembers when she met Killian, he had greeted her in a similar fashion.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. I hope you enjoy the pizza," he bids her farewell, slowly releasing her hand.

"Wait," she calls after him as he turns to leave.

He turns around, lifting a brow. "Yes, Mrs…"

She smirks flirtatiously. "That's _Ms. _Raven." She holds up her hand to show him her bare ring finger. "Recently divorced."

"My apologies," he murmurs, embarrassed and regretful. "I assumed a pretty lady like yourself would be taken."

"It was for the best," she assures, waving off his words again, blush spreading through her cheeks.

"In that case, I suppose congratulations are in order," he says playfully.

"Thank you," she laughs, "and yes it's definitely something to celebrate. Would you by any chance like to come in and join in on the celebration? I can't possibly finish this pizza by myself."

He flashes her a cheeky green. "Well, it just so happens you're my final stop, and it would be my honor to join you."

Milah opens the door to let him in and offers him some wine with a big grin and a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Perhaps she will find her happy ending after all.


End file.
